


The Long Way Round

by yourpricelessadvice



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2002, 2005, Breakup, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hospitals, Kid Fic, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mpreg, Pregnant Louis, Slow Burn, some era appropriate fashion choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-13 15:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 44,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourpricelessadvice/pseuds/yourpricelessadvice
Summary: 2002 is going to be Louis’ year.He’d said that about the departing 2001 as well though, after declaring the first year of the new millennium ‘a trial run’. But this year will be different.





	1. 2002

2002 is going to be Louis’ year.

He’d said that about the departing 2001 as well though, after declaring the first year of the new millennium ‘a trial run’. But this year  _ will _ be different. 

For starters, he and Michael have just celebrated their one year anniversary on Christmas Eve – Louis’ twenty second birthday – and things are going good. Michael’s gorgeous; think Ben from A1 mixed with Duncan from Blue and you’re about there. Louis thinks Michael might be the one; he wants it all with him; marriage, a house, kids, estate car, the lot.

He’s mentioned babies to Michael once or twice, and the first time he was met with optimistic ideals for the future, but the next time Louis brought up the subject Michael had seemed less keen. Maybe in the future became maybe one day, and Louis had decided to just shelve the idea for now and not let it play on his mind. Admittedly, he isn’t as careful as he perhaps should be, but male pregnancy rates are so much lower than normal and he tells himself it’s unlikely to happen by accident anyway.

Louis’ little sisters are still young enough to believe in the magic of the festive season, and that extends to resolutions in the New Year too. Fizzy especially is mad on them, and has hers written down proudly in her fluffy Groovy Chick notebook. She rips out a page for Louis to write his down on, and as he’s staring down at the blank page he imagines it filled with worthwhile and beneficial things like  _ join the gym _ ,  _ start running _ and  _ donate more to charity _ . He knows that’s mostly unrealistic though. He considers putting down ‘get pregnant’ but then quickly decides that’s not for the girls’ eyes, so in the end he just goes for something easy:

  * __Be happy__
  * _Have lots of fun_
  * _Buy lots of presents for my little sisters_.

Lottie, Fizzy and the twins all squeal and giggle happily at that last one. After all four girls have their chance to chatter about their own resolutions, their mum Jay kindly prompts the girls to disperse and go and play. The two older girls go off to their rooms whilst the twins wander off together to play PS2.

Louis and Michael catch up with Jay for another hour or so before making their excuses. They’re going out tonight, obviously, to some dive in town that is cheap and cheerful that suits their budget. Louis plants a quick kiss on his mum’s cheek, hugs her tightly and then calls up the stairs to his various siblings as Michael hugs Jay goodbye.

By half ten they’re suitably drunk, and by one minute to midnight they’re snogging up against the wall of the club. All around them is the thick fog of cigarette smoke and dry ice, a million other sweaty bodies and the heavy thud of the bass, but all that Louis can see is Michael. The music cuts off abruptly and the ten second countdown commences.

As the seconds trickle away, Louis’ heart feels full to burst. He’s happy, so bloody happy, and can’t wait to see what this years’ got in store for him. For them.

*

The first day of 2002 is certainly a success. After stumbling home at four AM and proceeding to sleep for a solid thirteen hours, he and Michael have delicately tender hungover sex and then eat the last of the leftover Christmas turkey curry.

By about seven PM Louis is feeling a bit more with it; he’s fed and watered, well rested and has showered away the funk of a boozy night out and an afternoon spent between the sheets. The landline starts to trill, the toll is weak as if the thing is going to pack up at any moment, but until that day comes Louis is not looking to replace the phone.

He hauls himself up off the sofa and cuts across his small living room to where the phone is resting on the sill. 

“Yo!” He answers. It’s all right; it’s New Year’s Day, there are only a few people it could be. 

“Hi Lou!” Louis’ best friend Harry chirps down the phone, and immediately there is a smile on Louis’ face. “Happy New Year!”

“Happy new year, Hazza!” Louis says back. “Everything all right? How was your evening?”

To be honest, since getting with Michael the plans for New Year have changed quite a bit. In previous years he and Harry would just knock around together, drinking whatever their underage arses could get hold of, which later on became going out to pubs and clubs once Harry turned eighteen. Michael wanders past half way through their conversation, frowning to Louis in lieu of asking who is on the phone. Louis mouths ‘Harry’ and doesn’t miss Michael rolling his eyes, though he’s obviously trying to be subtle.

Michael’s jealous streak is a bit funny really; Harry and Louis have been best friends since forever and every big event in Louis’ life has been with Harry by his side. But he’s just Harry; it’s definitely not like that. 

They chatter away for another ten minutes or so before Michael starts to get a bit uppity so Louis hurries his best friend off the phone and reverts to the sofa for cuddles in front of the telly. They have Sky at Louis’ mum’s house, but when he moved into his one bed flat in the summer of the previous year he hadn’t the budget for excessive television channels, and so they just have channels 1-5. Needless to say, there isn’t much selection but Louis finds Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on the BBC and they watch that together. 

*

As January continues on, things go back to normal of course. Louis and Michael both return to work as shop workers and plumbers respectively, and while he’s not technically broken any of his resolutions (those immortalised in pink gel pen  _ and _ those that were not) he isn’t exactly living the life he wants to.

The first of February is Harry’s twentieth birthday, and so it’s only right that they have a knees up for that. Louis’ got a new Ben Sherman shirt for the occasion, too.

They actually end up in the same club Louis and Michael went to for New Year. It’s the three of them plus Harry’s college friends; two lads called Niall and Zayn. Louis knows of them; has met them before on various nights out. Zayn’s bloody gorgeous, even compared to Michael, but sadly is very straight. Niall is too, but gets away with it because he’s so likeable.

The new Daniel Bedingfield song that Louis’ had stuck in his head for weeks on end plays at least four times throughout the course of the night, as well Enrique Iglesias’ Hero, which is currently absolutely huge. Louis suspects that Michael would’ve been a better suited dance partner during the ballad, but instead he’s swooning around the dance floor drunkenly with Harry in his arms, singing to him with all of his might. 

Later that night, many,  _ many _ drinks later, Louis climbs Michael like a tree, wriggling until their naked bodies are aligned. 

“Why don’t we use-” Michael begins to say, but Louis cuts him off.

“No, no it’s fine babe, I’m taking my pill. It’s fine.”

Louis’ sure it was this morning he took it. Might’ve been yesterday. No, it was probably this morning. Michael looks dubious, but ultimately he lets Louis ride him bare.

*

As February’s caterpillar morphs into a beautiful March butterfly, a peculiar queasy feeling begins to niggle away at Louis. His brain immediately goes to one place and one place only; he can’t help it, he has Baby Fever and it’s not as if it would be the end of the world if he was up the duff. Nevertheless, he tries to bear in mind that the chances of him conceiving naturally are very low and he’s probably just coming down with a cold. 

However, as he sits down the pub with Harry and Niall one Friday evening in the middle of the month, the very idea of a beer turns his stomach and he can’t bear the feeling of his cotton t-shirt against his skin. He fabricates a story about being on medication to explain why he’s not drinking, and Niall seems happy with that but Harry looks sceptical. It’s okay though, it’s not Harry he’s trying to convince.

Chugging away at his Coke is nowhere near as much fun as Louis is used to on Friday evenings down the local, but he makes it through. At around ten thirty, Niall makes his excuses and dashes off to catch the late bus home, leaving Louis and Harry behind.

“What medication are you on and why don’t I know about it?” Harry asks immediately, the three and a half beers he’s consumed making him bolder than usual. “You’re a dirty liar, aren’t you, Louis Tomlinson!”

Louis doesn’t even try and cover up his girly giggle, which just puts fuel on Harry’s fire. 

“Do you have news to tell me?!”

“No!” Louis exclaims. “Well, maybe? No? I don’t know! I haven’t done a test or ‘owt but I just feel like… maybe?”

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for?” Harry demands. “What did Mike say? Why haven’t you done a test yet? Are you excited?”

“One question at a time, Harold!” Louis splutters. “I haven’t told Mike yet, I was waiting to see if… well, y’know. If the feeling passes and I’m not pregnant then there’s no point in telling him, is there?”

“Well are you going to do a test?”

“Maybe,” Louis says thoughtfully. “I’ll give it ‘til after the weekend and then see. Where do I even buy a test from anyway?”

“Why are you asking me?!” Harry snorts, but he comes up with an answer for Louis, who doesn’t stop to think about how Harry knows where to buy pregnancy tests. 

*

After a weekend of intense self-scrutiny, Louis has convinced himself by Monday morning that he’s most definitely up the duff. Still, he’s biting his tongue on telling Michael, just in case his hopes end up dashed later on.

Getting through work is an actual nightmare, having to pretend to care about the price of Fairy washing up liquid and Penguin bars when all he can really focus on is the possible baby tucked away inside him. Finally, when his shift is over he goes up to the staff room and uses the landline to call Harry.

“Hello?” A female voice answers.

“Hiya darling, it’s Louis.”

“Louis!” Harry’s mum Anne exclaims happily. “How are you, love?”

“I’m good thanks, yeah! Is Haz about?”

“He is, darling; I’ll just get him for you. Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“I will!” Louis grins. “Thanks, Annie!”

Louis waits a moment for the rustling and commotion at the other end to settle and be replaced with his best friend’s voice. “Hi Lou, all right?” 

“Yeah, I uh,” He pauses to check no one is around. “I’m gonna get… you know what. Tonight. Now.”

“Lou!” Harry hisses hysterically, lowering his tone so his mum or stepdad doesn’t overhear their conversation. “Bloody hell mate, don’t just drop that on me! Are you with Mike, what did he say? Are you feeling positive- ha, positive! Get it?” Harry chuckles at his rubbish pun. 

“I don’t know,” Louis sighs happily. “Trying not to get my hopes up, but… no, no I’m trying not to get my hopes up. What will be will be, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, though he sounds less enthusiastic now. A bit deflated. “Lou…?”

“What?”

“Mike  _ does _ know, right?”

Louis quirks a confused eyebrow, but then the door flies open and Reece from the tobacco kiosk comes in so their conversation is suspended momentarily while Reece roots around in his bag for a while and then leaves again. “Sorry, someone came in. Anyway, why does it matter? I’ll buy a test and if it’s positive then I’ll tell Michael, obviously. What’s the big deal?”

“Just…” Harry begins, but then he falters and Louis has to demand it out of him. “Well, y’know what he’s like with you not telling him stuff.”

“But I am gonna tell him!” Louis says, trying to stay calm. “If there’s even anything to tell him, that is!”

“I know, I just…”

“Spit it out, Hazza, c’mon. Stop being a wimp.”

“Well, he gets right jealous doesn’t he? If he found out that I knew about this before him, he’d flip his lid.”

Prickles of irrational anger sprint up Louis’ spine at that, and his brows dip into a frustrated frown. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s your problem?”

Harry laughs incredulously. “I haven’t got a problem, Lou. Just forget I said anything, yeah? Go and get the test and for God’s sake, take it with Mike, yeah?”

Louis isn’t completely happy with the way Harry had spoken to him but some peculiar, rational grown up part of him tells him just to leave it. So, he replaces the receiver, paints on his game face and grabs his jacket from the peg. He slips it over his shoulders and leaves the break room, clocking out at the end of the corridor before heading back onto the shop floor to leave.

Most of his colleagues that are still on shift stop to say goodbye as he saunters through, and he wonders if they can tell. If it’s as obvious to them as it is to Louis what he’s about to go and do. Of course it isn’t really, but he really can’t stop the excitement bubbling up.

Once Louis arrives in town he realises he’s not thought as far as where he’ll get the test from. There’s Superdrug and Boots the chemist, but he goes there with Lottie quite a bit and there’s no guarantee one of her teeny-bopper friends won’t spot him and recognise him. 

He wanders aimlessly through the parade, peering to his left and to his right, eventually settling on a small cheap shop tucked away in the corner that he’d never noticed before. He spends too much time pretending to browse the aisles, looking at the shampoos, shower gels and deodorants until he’s brave enough to approach the healthcare aisle.

The selection of women’s tests is much wider than the choice of male tests, and Louis has the choice between one that costs eleven pound and one that costs two ninety-nine. Being the reckless individual that he is, he goes for the eleven quid one.

The woman who rings him up at the till barely lifts her head, and Louis must admit he’s a little disappointed. Still, he takes his bag and leaves the shop, heading back to the station to catch the next bus home. 

*

Anticipation stirs through Louis on the journey home, and by the time he gets home he’s practically dizzy with exhilaration. Michael is home, pottering around in the kitchen starting their tea, and though Louis is initially disappointed to be met with his boyfriend’s less than enthusiastic grunt, he has to remind himself that Michael doesn’t even know yet, and once -  _ if! _ – they are expecting, he will perk up no end.

“I’m just going to the loo,” Louis announces, and Michael just nods, perhaps a bit perplexed as to why Louis felt the need to announce that. “Back in a sec.”

“All right,” Michael nods again, turning his back on Louis. Still, undeterred, Louis dashes to their pokey little bathroom and closes the door carefully behind him. He takes the small box from where it sits, wrapped up in the plastic bag, in his jacket pocket. He reads the instructions over and over before pulling down his work trousers and boxer shorts and debating on how he’s going to do this.

Louis isn’t sure his aim is good enough, and the instructions recommend the sitting down and aiming method, so that what he goes for. It’s a weird sensation, but admittedly not one he’s completely new to. Sometimes in the dead of night it’s easier to sit than stand. 

“Okay,” he murmurs quietly to himself, trying to figure out a way to spread his thighs wide enough to reach down, while still making sure he’s aiming into the bowl, not pissing on his hand and not missing the end of the pregnancy test. “C’mon, fat arse, you can do it.”

Despite his encouraging pep talks, it takes a moment or so to get the flow going, and then after that it’s like it’s never going to stop. After more than enough soaking, Louis pulls the test from between his thighs and goes back to consulting the box. He has to wait five minutes, because hormone levels are always naturally lower in males. As he sits there, reading the back of the bleach bottle for something to do, it occurs to him that if he’s minutes away from finding out he’s going to be a dad, he should probably put his dick away.

Safely tucked back in his underwear, Louis kicks off his work trousers and takes an old pair of joggers off the top of the washing pile. They’re not  _ too _ bad.

Five minutes feels more like five decades, and there are only so many bottles he can read the labels of before all the words start to look the same. 

“Fucking Jesus, come on!” He mutters under his breath as he checks his watch again to find only three minutes have passed. 

He could check it now, is the thing. Maybe five minutes is just a guideline? It takes all of Louis’ strength and determination not to do that though, and by the time he picks the plastic test off the edge of the sink, he’s convinced himself all the way in the other direction that he won’t be pregnant. 

He takes a deep breath; one eye pinched closed nervously, and flips it over. 

Two lines. 

Fuck. 

Two lines means yes!  _ Positive _ !

“Fucking hell,” Louis gasps before letting all of the pent up air in his lungs out in a shaky, uncontrollable nervous laugh. All of the emotions go through Louis’ mind; happiness, shock, fear, apprehension, excitement, love. 

He feels like he’s walking on air as he stuffs the test back into his hoodie pocket, reaches for the door handle and then makes his way towards Michael. For the last minute or so, him and this baby have had a solitary connection that no one else in the entire world knows for sure exists, and now he’s about to share that special news with the man who made the other half of this little bundle of cells. Louis’ heart beats hard in his chest. 

“All right?” Michael murmurs, not looking around, as he senses Louis in the doorway of their tiny kitchen.

“Michael?” Louis says, unable to stop grinning. Michael doesn’t turn around. “Mikey, turn around please?”

With a small but still notable sigh, Michael puts down the bags of frozen veg he was deliberating over and turns around. “Yes?”

“Guess what?”

“Don’t know?” Michael stares at him intensely. “What have you done?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Louis giggles, then a thought pops into his head. “Technically, it’s what  _ you’ve _ done.”

“What’re you on about, Lou?”

Louis puts his hands into his pockets and wraps his fingers around the warm plastic in his left pocket. He decides he’s just going to go for it.

“I’ve got something to show you,” he says, taking his hand out of his pocket as he steps closer to Michael. He holds out the test in the space between their bodies, the slight quiver of his hand a tell-tale sign of the adrenaline running through him.

“Is that… bloody hell, Louis, what is that? Is that what I think it is?”

Louis just nods with a watery smile, words escaping him for a moment due to the knot of excitement in his throat.

“I… fuck, Lou. Is that yours?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Well, duh!” He exclaims, perhaps a little childishly. 

“You’re pregnant?” Michael verifies again, and Louis nods once more. “Are- I can’t… I can’t believe it.”

“Are you happy?” Louis asks, taking the test back and popping it down on the kitchen counter. He steps into Michael’s space and brings his arms up to wrap around Michael’s shoulders, draping his smaller body over Michael’s tree-like stance. “It’s good news isn’t it, babe?”

“Yeah,” Michael says hoarsely. “Yeah, it’s good news.”

Louis grins happily, biting down on his bottom lip as he slots his fingers together between Michael’s shoulders and leans back to admire him. “I love you, yeah? And our little baby.” He presses their hips together, trying to show off the still undetectable baby bump, which just earns a small smile from Michael. 

“Do you wanna shag?” Louis asks, brazen as ever. He’s feeling confident and happy and better than he has in weeks. Michael laughs as he shakes his head at Louis’ openness, but he doesn’t take much more convincing.

“Guide me to the bedroom, daddy.” Louis purrs, trying his hardest not to crack as he staggers backwards towards their bedroom. 

He turns around, becoming the instigator and forcing Michael down onto the bed. Louis clambers on top of him, digging his knees into the mattress, and begins ridding Michael of his t-shirt. Michael lifts his shoulders off the bed to assist, and then Louis whips off his own top too. He peers down at Michael’s body beneath him; dark, coarse hair scattered sparsely over his chest and in a trail from his bellybutton into the waistband of his shorts.

As Louis rocks back and forth in Michael’s lap he sort of wishes he was showing already, the idea of being all full up with Michael’s baby fuelling his appetite. He slips his fingers under the waistband and shuffles down the bed to get them off.

Michael is pretty much ready to go; Louis settles back down on him with his knees digging into the mattress either side of Michael’s hips, and he holds out his hand expectantly. Michael knows what he wants, and reaches down, without taking his eyes off Louis, to get the lube from the bottom drawer of the bedside table. 

Louis gives the whole  _ daddy _ thing one more go, but Michael politely but firmly asks him to stop. So while they may not have discovered a new kink they didn’t know they loved, it is still some of the best sex Louis has ever had. 

*

Later on that evening, Louis is lounging about on the sofa feeling well fucked and completely blissed out when he suddenly remembers that he hasn’t called Harry back. 

“Who are you calling?” Michael asks with a frown as Louis dials. “Aren’t you gonna tell your mum face to face?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not- Hiya Anne, I’m sorry to call so late, is Harry there by any chance? Thanks, love. Yeah, all good thanks, how’re you?”

Louis smiles sweetly at Michael as he waits for Harry to get to the phone, but Michael isn’t smiling back. “What?” Louis mouths defensively but then Harry’s voice comes through the other end of the line.

“Hiya, Lou.”

“Guess what!” Louis asks, for the second time that evening. He accidentally catches Michael’s eyes as he does so, and the look on his face is unreadable; his questioning eyes and heavy set frown. 

“Did you do it?” Harry asks. 

“Yes!” Louis squeals; he can't contain his joy. “Get your best frock at the ready, Hazza, a celebration is in order!”

Harry can’t show much reaction, bless him, because his mum is within earshot and though Louis is excited he would be wracked with guilt if Harry’s mum found out before his own. Plus, Michael’s still acting funny; he’s now gone into the kitchen and Louis can tell by the whir of the pipes that he’s started the washing up. That never normally happens. 

“We’ll chat more tomorrow, okay? Need to go and tend to my baby daddy!” Louis chuckles, which develops into a full on laugh when Harry cries out in cringing embarrassment. “Bye, Hazza!”

Once he’s replaced the white plastic phone on the base, Louis gets up and follows Michael’s path into the kitchen. 

“Hey babe, what’s with the washing up? Normally we leave it at least until the next day.”

Michael turns quite abruptly, which takes Louis by surprise. “He knew before me?”

Louis is stunned into stuttering silence. “Uh, n-no, ‘course not. I only just took the test five minutes before I told you, babe.”

“So what was that phone call all about then?” Michael demands to know. 

“I… well, he knew I was thinking of taking a test,” Michael scoffs cruelly. “But that’s it, Mikey, I promise babe. I promise.”

“For Christ sake, Lou, you know he doesn’t have to know every single detail of your life, yeah? Not everything is his business.”

“Michael, he’s my best mate, maybe I just get a bit carried away? C’mon love, what does it matter? C’mon, this is about us; me and you. Don’t go on about him.”

Louis’ trying to keep the peace, and also trying to keep his tone light and jovial and flirty. He steps a bit closer and reaches out to touch Michael's arm. Louis runs his finger down Michael’s bicep. 

“C’mon Mikey,” he continues. “I love you, my handsome, strong, drop dead gorgeous baby daddy.”

Louis gives it more and more welly with each word, and ultimately the two of them end up in fits of laughter, their bodies pressed together closely as if nothing could come between them. 

*

Louis is on the phone with his GP surgery first thing the next morning. They can offer him an appointment on Wednesday afternoon, and his heart soars at how quickly things are moving already. He cups his hand over the receiver and shouts to the kitchen to where Michael is filling his flask with tea.

“Mikey, Wednesday afternoon, yeah?”

“Eh?” He appears in the doorway looking confused.

“Doctor’s, tomorrow at two! You’ll be able to get the afternoon off, right?”

Michael looks aggravated and confused, but Louis waves it off and returns to his call. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you so much!”

Louis’ boss doesn’t question him when he says he needs the afternoon off for a doctor’s appointment, which is handy. Michael spends most of Tuesday evening huffing and sighing and going on about having to go into work an hour early every day for the rest of the week to make up for the time he’s missing, but Louis doesn’t let it get to him. 

Getting through Wednesday morning when his mind is – again – on other things is torture, but finally it’s one PM and he can disappear up to the break room and grab his coat to leave. 

Michael is picking him up outside the front, and is under strict instruction not to be late. Louis himself is one or two minutes ahead of schedule himself though, so when Michael turns up perfectly on time at ten past one, Louis has already been waiting five minutes and he’s getting antsy.

“Skin of your teeth, Michael!” Louis chastises as he gets in the front seat of Michael’s work van. He crosses his seatbelt over his body carefully and rests his hands in his lap gently around the still undetectable baby bump. “Come on, let’s go, there might be lunchtime traffic!”

*

They’re more than fifteen minutes early for their appointment, so Louis need not’ve been anxious. Still, it gives him time to settle and calm down a bit. It’s eerily quiet in the waiting room, so any conversation that does pass between him and Michael is whispered and limited to one or two word observations. 

“Louis?”

Nervous excitement surges through Louis’ veins when the nurse calls his name. Together, he and Michael dash down the corridor towards the clinic room behind the nurse, and chivalrously Michael holds the door open for him.

“So, Mr Tomlinson, I believe we have some exciting news to confirm for you?”

Louis giggles nervously as Michael puts a protective arm around the back of the chair and rests his fingers on Louis’ arm. “Uh, yes hopefully!”

“Okay, well I trust you’re already very well-versed in all of the literature around male pregnancy. It is often more difficult to detect than ‘normal’ pregnancies, but that’s not normally a cause for concern, it’s just the lower hormone levels due to the fact gene-positive males produces a lot less oestrogen than females.”

Louis nods along; he doesn’t want to hear all the risks and the negativity, he just wants to know that his baby is fine.

“We’ll do a urine test to check for hCG levels, and also to check for any signs of infection or protein. I’m anticipating, if you’ve had a positive test at home, that the tests here will be positive too, but it’s just for completeness. We’ll then take some blood from you, check your blood pressure too, height and weight – I’m sorry! – and book your care with the midwife.”

“Thank you,” Louis nods eagerly. “Will you be able to tell me when the baby is due?”

“I should be able to, yes.” The nurse nods with a warm smile. “The scan is the most accurate way to get the due date though, as I’m sure you’re aware, but we can do a pretty good job of working it out.”

Armed with a sample pot, Louis exits the room in search of the toilets that the nurse had advised him were just to the left and then immediately on the right. Navigating peeing into the pot is a lot easier than when he was preparing to pee on the stick test, and soon he’s on his way back again with the offending object concealed in his pocket. 

Upon his return, Michael and the nurse are laughing politely about something, and it makes Louis so happy to see Michael smiling. He sits back down next to him and hands the pot over to the nurse. There is a moment or two of absolute sheer panic as she gloves up and dips the testing strip, but her broad grin tells Louis everything he needs to know.

“Congratulations boys, that’s a lovely strong positive test!”

Louis almost cries with happiness, but Michael just smiles and touches his hand to Louis’ thigh, but that’s enough for Louis because it has to be. 

Whilst they have the sample, the nurse also tests it for infections and that’s clear. She also checks his blood pressure twice, commenting afterwards that he’s a picture of health.

“Now, I need to weigh and measure you, Louis.”

Dutifully he stands up, stepping up to be weighed like a school child or a fishmonger’s haddock. He questions himself over the strange analogy, but puts it, as he will most things going forward, down to baby brain. 

“Short arse,” Michael comments, barely audibly, as Louis stands up against the height chart. Louis sticks his tongue out as a blush colours his cheeks. 

Next is his weight, which he refuses to acknowledge, especially now that he’s pregnant. Once that’s done, he can sit back down again. 

“This is the not so fun part, sorry.” The nurse says as she wheels across to her trolley and plucks out three different colour blood vials. “It should only take a minute or two, you‘re young and healthy so your veins should behave themselves.”

Louis just finds himself perpetually grinning; he’s happy, he’s expecting a little bundle of joy, and this nurse is absolutely lovely with a real motherly vibe. Life couldn’t be better.

She manages to get his blood quite easily, and whilst he’s not exactly squeamish, Louis chooses not to watch as she fills three separate vials. Once the tests are done, the nurse goes over some further information and reassures Louis that it’s all written in the paperwork she’s provided them with.

“Male gestation is generally shorter than your average female pregnancy; because of the anatomy there is less room in there for baby to shift around. Therefore, ‘term’ is considered 35 weeks, with all male pregnancy babies being delivered by 37 weeks if they haven’t come already; so, two or three weeks ahead of ‘normal pregnancy’.”

“Is that common?” Louis asks. “For them to be born early?”

“It is,” The nurse confirms, and worry settles in Louis. “Obviously we’d like baby to cook as long as possible, but survival rates for babies born between thirty and thirty two weeks is 85% which rises to 90% between thirty three and thirty four weeks, and then one hundred percent from 35 weeks onwards.”

“Eighty five, that sounds really low! Doesn’t that sound low, babe?” Louis says to Michael, his hand going automatically to his stomach.

“It’s all right, Lou, they know what they’re doing.”

“Like I say, these numbers are all statistics. You are young and healthy and in excellent shape. There is no reason why you can’t healthily carry your baby to term, Louis.”

The discussion continues on to things like labour and delivery, and the Caesarean procedure, but Louis can’t take that in just yet, just nods along numbly. It takes a bit more reassuring to get Louis out of the chair, but when they do finally get on their way they’ve got a date for their midwife appointment, the number to call the hospital for a scan, and a tentative expected due date for their little bundle; Saturday 5 th October 2002, making Louis currently seven weeks pregnant.

Louis takes that date with a grain of salt because now he knows the rates of premature delivery and survival, he’s scared stiff. Michael stops them as they’re walking across the car park back to the van.

“It’s all right, babe,” Michael says softly. “Don’t let all those numbers scare you. Remember she said you’re healthy and young, the baby will be fine.”

Louis just about manages a watery smile, nodding along and just hoping that he’s right.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.”

*

After giving it a bit of thought, Louis decides to wait to tell work. Therefore, the rest of the week feels a bit anti-climactic. He wants to shout it from the rooftops, but he’s also terrified to. On Friday evening, Michael is out working late so Louis has Harry over to keep him company.

“Congratulations, Lou.” Harry says earnestly as they embrace, and Louis realises it’s the first time they’re seeing each other since discovering he was pregnant. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

“Thanks Hazza,” Louis murmurs into Harry’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to let go, and when he does it’s with reluctance. “I’m just watching the telly, that all right?”

Harry nods and they curl up on the sofa together, chatting idly as EastEnders plays. Louis tells Harry almost everything he can think of that’s happened in the short span of a few days, lingering for a moment before finally biting the bullet when Harry prompts him. He tells Harry about the stats, about the chances of his baby being born too early. And what if Baby Tomlinson is part of the fifteen percent of babies that don’t make it?

Harry is as reassuring as his naïve, 20 year old self can be, but Louis knows that it’s just going to take time for his nerves to settle. It will probably help having the scan, when he will be able to see for himself that little Junior is all right in there.

“Does it feel weird?” Harry asks. “Knowing there’s a little wriggly tadpole in there swimming about but you can’t feel it yet?”

“Harry Styles, my son is not a tadpole!” Louis exclaims, clutching a hand to his chest in mock indignation.

“Well, like father, like son!” Harry retorts with a wicked grin.

“Hey, it might be a girl, y’never know!”

“What do you reckon?” Harry asks. “What do you feel in your heart?”

“I don’t know really,” Louis muses. “Suppose it would be nice to have a daughter. I could embarrass her when she gets older, when she wants a mobile phone and a boyfriend and money for makeup.”

Harry snorts. “You might have a son that wants all those things, too!”

Louis laughs as he nods. “Well if he’s anything like me!”

Mobile phones have only just become A Thing in the last few years, and wanting a boyfriend  _ certainly _ wasn’t something Louis would’ve expressed as a teen, even if he  _ had’ve _ wanted one. He’d been caught more than once putting his mum’s red lippie on baby Lottie, and after the first time he’d decided it might look quite nice on him too, so he’d put some on too. Jay had just laughed, and after that day he knew that he could be anything he wanted to be around his family and they’d still love him. 

“You’ve got loads of practice with girl babies too,” Harry points out. “Still, either way I’m sure it will be cute.”

“You’re damn right it’ll be cute!” Louis says defiantly. “This is mine and Michael’s genes we’re talking about!”

“Always modest!” Harry rolls his eyes. “Speaking of which, where is Mr Happy?”

Louis swats Harry’s arm to tell him off, but it’s half-hearted at best. “He’s working late; will be home about nine.”

“Okay,” Harry nods. “So, is he looking forward to being a dad?”

“Yeah!” Louis nods. “I think it’s taking a while for it to sink in, like, he didn’t think it would happen so fast. Neither did I, to be fair.”

“Takes two to tango, Lou.”

Louis shoots Harry a look. “He’s supportive, he’s happy. I promise.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees softly, letting his gaze linger on Louis a moment longer than necessary. “So long as you’re happy, Lou, that’s all that matters.”

“Thanks, Hazza,” Louis whispers, returning Harry’s meaningful smile. 

*

When Michael returns home at ten past nine he finds Louis alone, in tears on the sofa, clutching his belly like a lifeline.

“Are you all right, Lou?” He asks tentatively, approaching cautiously. “Lou, what’s happened?”

“Noth- I, oh God, I’m just a mess, Mikey!” Louis blubbers; being asked if he’s okay sending him over the edge. “Look at this!”

He points at the telly, where he’s got the news on. It’s on mute because he couldn’t bear to listen to another word of it, but he hadn’t got as far as turning it off.

“Why, what’s happened?” Michael asks, sitting down on the sofa and leaning forward to peer at the screen. The banner running along the bottom of the screen and the images flickering past silently are more than enough to gauge what is happening.

A young girl down South in Surrey has gone missing; she’s been missing since the previous day after leaving school and not making it home.

“This poor girl!” Louis exclaims, rubbing furiously at his wet cheeks. “We’re bringing a child into the world, Michael, and- and there’s young girls being abducted in broad day light! What the hell are we doing, Michael? I’m just… I can’t, it’s so sad!”

“It’s okay, Lou, I promise,” Michael shuffles over and scoops Louis up into his arms. “The news is horrible, I agree, but our baby will be fine, I promise you.”

Michael holds Louis, stroking his arm gently until he’s calm again, and together they make the decision that they will visit the families this weekend to tell them their news. 

*

Come eleven o’clock on Saturday morning they’re chugging up the A18 in Michael’s work van - it’s far from glamorous but it'd be the number 58a First Bus if it was left up to Louis, so he can’t complain. Out loud, at least.

Louis’ family are nearest, ten minutes up the road in Edenthorpe, but Michael’s parents are a little further afield in Scunthorpe. So many Thorpe’s.

Louis’ a hyper mix of nerves, anticipation and excitement during the short journey to his mum’s house, and his legs feel like helium filled sacks when he tries to get out and make it up the driveway. 

After the usual hubbub of hello’s and how are you’s and interrogation from the girls, they fall into a nice easy chatter and it would be easy for Louis to lose sight of why he’s here. But in the end, he doesn’t have to swing the conversation back around because his mum stops them suddenly with an arched brow.

“Now, as much as I love you boys, I have to wonder why you’ve suddenly decided to pop in, and why you’re both acting so unnaturally.”

Louis’ mouth drops open and Michael chuckles nervously next to him. They exchange a quick look, and Michael nods encouragingly. Louis feels positively giddy as he turns back to face his mum. He takes a deep breath, giggling nervously as she continues to glance questioningly between them. 

“So uh… me and Mikey have something to tell you,” Louis says, taking Michael’s hand and slotting their fingers together tightly. “You’re gonna be a grandma. I’m pregnant!”

Jay leaps out of her seat, shrieking and crying with her hands over her face. “Oh darling, oh my Loubear, that’s fantastic!”

She pulls Louis clean off his seat and into her arms, bundling him up like a rugby ball and continuing to shriek illegibly. She’s just dragging Michael into the scrum when all four girls appear in the kitchen like magic, sheer looks of confusion and panic on their similar looking faces.

“Mum, what’s going on?” Lottie shouts over the general chaos, and Louis sees tears streaming down his mum’s cheeks as she turns towards her daughters.

“Lou’s pregnant; they’re going to have a baby!” She yells, and then all hell breaks loose. Louis can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed about his overbearing, overenthusiastic family, because this is exactly what he’s always wanted. 

The twins immediately tug at Louis’ t-shirt, lifting it up to examine his tummy. They’re most disappointed to find that there’s nothing there yet.

“It’ll be a few months yet, kid!” Louis tells them, peering down at them. “So, what d’you reckon? Are you excited to become aunties?”

Phoebe and Daisy are wide eyed as they nod. “Will your baby be a boy baby or a girl baby, Lou?” Phoebe asks, while Daisy wonders whether it will be twins like them. 

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart. I don’t  _ think _ its twins but you never know! I will let you know as soon as they tell me, how’s that?”

“Okay!” The twins chorus before going back to what they were doing. The older two are pleased, Louis thinks, and have lots of questions too. It’s like his mum is still on cloud nine though; she makes the teas in a daze, chattering away to herself and occasionally laughing as she does.

“All right there, mum?” Louis calls, winking to Lottie. “Having pleasant conversations with yourself?”

“Oh shush you, you cheeky bugger!” Jay frowns fondly. “You’re lucky you’re carrying my first grandchild because I’d give you a clip ‘round the ear otherwise!”

*

Michael and Louis stay for another hour or so and then spend almost as long saying their goodbyes. After he’s been around every sister three times and his mum a further nine billion times (no exaggeration), they hit the M180 towards Scunthorpe. Louis is buzzing with adrenaline now and just wants to get there and tell Michael’s mum and dad so then everyone important will know. 

Michael’s parents Wendy and Steve are lovely, and their house is beautiful, but in comparison with the Tomlinson madhouse it’s like stepping into a mortuary. 

“Hello darling, it’s lovely to see you!” Michael’s mum hugs him and kisses his cheek, but is as painfully formal with her own son too. She’s nice, lovely really, but the word ‘stiff’ comes to mind.

Wendy and Steve’s reaction is certainly a calmer one than Jay’s earlier, but they both seem happy. Louis would like to think they consider him quite a worthy suitor for their son, and a perfectly capable father of their future grandchild.

“Well that’s certainly very exciting, Louis!” Wendy beams kindly. “You’ll have to start thinking about a two bedroomed place in the next year or so.”

“Yeah, well, one thing at a time, mum.” Michael laughs uncomfortably, and it stops Louis in his tracks from making the joke he was about to make. “Let’s focus on getting the baby here first, eh?”

Wendy makes them sandwiches and a variety of sweet treats to go with their tea, and Louis decides right there and then that he’s going to take full advantage of ‘eating for two’ and have three cheese and pickle sarnies, two fondant fancies  _ and _ a Jaffa cake.

“All right there, love?” Michael smirks as Louis reaches for his third and final sandwich.

“Yep,” Louis replies quickly. “Baby wants Branston, I have to deliver, Michael!”

Michael shakes his head with a far off smile before going back to his own plate of food.

They stay for about another half an hour before Louis is feeling ready to go, honestly. He loves his (hopefully) future in-laws, but the combination of pregnancy hormones, an early start, being in the car, and having a tummy full of warm tea and snacks is making keeping his eyes open a battle. 

In the van on the way home he shifts until he’s comfortable and then, using his balled up jacket as a cushion, leans up against the window pane and closes his eyes.

*

Seeing the midwife for the first time the following week makes everything a bit more real but Louis can’t really enjoy it yet. By the time of the first ultrasound scan on the twenty fifth of April, Louis is practically gagging for something tangible to connect him to his child. The niggling doubt and concern in the back of his head has never really gone away, and he’s more than half convinced himself that when they start sliding the scanner across his abdomen, they won’t find anything at all.

Louis taken the entire day off for it, but Michael is meeting him at the hospital and then going straight back to work afterwards because it’s  _ so _ important. 

Their appointment is at ten AM, booked on the assumption that it wouldn’t give Louis too much time to get himself worked up beforehand, but as he woke up at six that morning and has been pacing the floor nervously ever since, it’s safe to say that plan didn’t really work.

“You’re late!” Louis hisses as they dash down the corridor. Their shoes squeak on the polished floors and the loose change and random washers and bolts in Michael’s pockets jingle as he moves. 

“I’m here now!” Michael mutters back. “We’re not late, calm down.”

Louis feels like smacking Michael, or at least shaking some sense into him. If by some divine miracle the baby is still hanging on in there, his stress at the mercy of Michael won’t be doing it any good whatsoever. 

Louis is still absolutely livid with Michael when they go into the scanning room, but that might be partly due to the fact that he’s busting for a wee and can’t go until after the scan. They are greeted by a very exuberant, friendly lady in a flowery tabard.

“Good morning, my name’s Julia. I’m senior sonographer here at the hospital!” She introduces herself. “Take a seat, sir,” She gestures to Michael, “And you must be Louis! Hop up on here, lovey!”

Louis dutifully shuffles onto the bed, keeping his knees together timidly as everyone gets situated.

“So, how is your pregnancy progressing so far, Louis? Any problems?”

“No,” Louis answers quietly. “I mean, I’m a bit anxious.”

“Ah, that’s understandable, love. We’ve put a lot of funding into pioneering research into male pregnancy at the hospital in the last five years, and we’ve got some really cracking technology here. It’s the best in the world.”

_ Sure it is _ , Louis thinks, but he nods steadily. “That’s good. Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Julia beams warmly. “Well, if you’d like to lay back and get comfy, I just need a nice clear peek at your tummy.”

Louis feels self-conscious as he lays back and lifts his t-shirt, which is ridiculous; he’s in a darkened room with a stranger and his boyfriend, nobody is judging him nor do they care. Lying like this, the ever so slight expansion of his lower abdomen disappears.

“Now, baby is nestled deeper inside the pelvis than in traditional pregnancies so we do need to delve a bit deeper. It may be slightly uncomfortable, a bit of prodding and poking, but it shouldn’t hurt. Let me know if you feel any pain, okay?”

Louis nods dutifully and grips the crumpled hem of his t-shirt for comfort. He wishes Michael would reach out and take his hand, but he does not.

“Now, this might be a bit cold at first.” Julia tells him, just like in the films Louis has watched. He nods and holds his breath in anticipation. It is cold, but only slightly so, and it soon warms up. 

And then the room fills with the erratic, echoing sounds of what’s going on inside Louis’ body. Julia runs the scanner over his tummy, much lower than he was anticipating. Julia is right; she does have to press down quite firmly, right in the crease of skin beneath where his trousers sit. 

She digs around for far too long, frowning in deep concentration and going back over the same place multiple times. Louis tries to look at the screen but it’s all indiscernible static and monochrome madness. His heart is beating faster and faster in his chest and it all feels too much. Julia has been silent far too long, and Louis can’t even feel Michael’s presence next to him.

Louis’ heart wobbles in his throat as he tries to get the words out, but he just can’t. Panic is building and all he can do is lift his head off the blue sheet to seek out Michael. But then-

“There we go!” Julie exclaims suddenly, and the relief and the shock and the joy all rush to the surface and fight their way out, culminating in Louis bursting into tears right there and then. 

“Oh my God!” He wails, Michael by his side leaning forward watching the screen closely. In the flickering light of the ultrasound Louis can see his misty eyes. “Babe, there’s our baby!”

“Congratulations boys! That’s a lovely strong heartbeat there!” Julia announces happily. “Listen to it?”

She increases the volume on her machine and the sound of their child’s heart beating away plays out into the room. There is lots of background noise and God knows what else going on inside Louis’ body that is picked up on the scanner, but the heartbeat prevails through it all.

“That’s so quick!” Michael muses, finally reaching forward and draping his fingers around Louis’ arm. 

“On average, foetal hearts beat at about one hundred and sixty beats per minute. Your little one sounds nice and healthy in there to me, Louis.”

Now that Louis’ fears have been alleviated, he can lie back and try and enjoy the little glimpse into his body. For two or three more minutes Julia scans him some more, taking measurements and checking all is well with the baby. They are tumbling about like mad on the screen but Louis can’t feel a thing yet, and that’s perhaps the weirdest part. 

“Okay!” Julia says finally, looking away from her screen and back to Louis and Michael. “We are done, lads. Any questions at all before I let you go?”

Michael and Louis exchange quick cursory glances but Louis shakes his head. “No, I think we’re good, thanks.”

“Okay, all that remains is for me to give you this!” Julia says, taking the printed out sonogram and slipping it inside a cardboard wallet for them. “Congratulations again boys. We’ll be seeing you again at 20 weeks for another scan, a more detailed one. Stop off at reception on the way out and they will get that booked for you, all right?”

“Yeah,” Louis scrambles to get up off the couch, his bare abdomen still slightly sticky and cool despite Julia wiping it down. “Thank you, that’s… that’s amazing, really.”

He clutches the scan picture in his hands tightly and together they make their way out, stopping off to get the date for the next scan, Friday the twenty first of June. Louis can’t stop looking at the image; he marvels at how clear it is. The last babies to be born in Louis’ life were the twins back in 1993 and they definitely didn’t have this technology back then, he’s sure of it. It’s fascinating really, the blurry but definitely discernible outline of his baby’s head, spine and legs. 

They make it down to the ground floor and out into the car park before Michael opens his mouth and ruins everything.

“Are you gonna be all right making your own way home?”

“Wh-what?” Louis stammers in disbelief, though he knows exactly what Michael means. ”Are you for real right now?”

“What?” Michael cries defensively. “You’ll be all right, won’t you? It’s a nice day; a walk to the bus stop might be quite nice!”

“You‘re bloody unbelievable, Michael!” Louis crosses his arms over his body. “Were hardly off the hospital grounds yet and you’re already itching to get away!”

“Lou, you knew I had to dash back afterwards, love. Come on, don’t be like that.”

“I’m not  _ like _ anything, Michael, I’m just annoyed!”

“I’m sorry, Lou,” Michael says, though his eyes are restlessly shifting. “Do you want me to drop you in town?”

“No,” Louis pouts, and he expects Michael to persevere in trying to convince him, but he doesn’t. Two minutes later, Louis is standing alone (minus the baby) in the hospital car park with the ghost of Michael’s lips on his cheek. 

It’s only then that Louis realises he still needs a wee.

*

“... and so he just buggers off and leaves me!” Louis finishes his story with a flourish. “We’d hardly made it outta the room and he was already gagging to leave!”

He and Harry are trawling around the shops in town; Louis having used the payphone in the hospital foyer to ring Harry at home, hoping to catch him in. Luckily Harry was home, and had agreed to come and meet up with Louis.

“Are you serious?” Harry asks with a frown. “Louis, why do you stand for it?”

“Hazza,” Louis protests weakly. 

“I know Lou, sorry, I just… doesn’t matter. Tell me more about what happened at the scan?”

Harry’s eyes light up when Louis describes the scenario to him. From the sound of the heartbeat to the wriggling little bean on the screen, Louis could relay this story a thousand times over and not be bored. He confesses his concerns to Harry, that he’d been feeling too scared to commit to being excited for the baby because he was afraid of it being ripped away from him without his consent. 

“I think that’s natural,” Harry tries to commiserate. “My mum had a miscarriage between Gem and me. She doesn’t talk about it but…”

Harry trails off as if he’s concerned about what he’s just said, but Louis feels comfort in knowing people have been in his shoes (or worse) before. He doesn’t feel as alone. 

“Can they find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Yeah, at the next scan I think. I have to have one at 20 weeks as normal, and they scan at 28 weeks as well apparently. It all sounds so far away, though.”

“I bet,” Harry nods. “20 weeks, Lou that’s five months! You’ll be huge by then!”

“Thanks!” Louis scoffs, punching Harry’s arm in retaliation. “Like I need reminding how fat I’m gonna get!”

“Not fat,” Harry corrects sombrely. “Pregnant. There’s a difference, Lou. What you’re doing is amazing.”

“All right, why don’t you just marry me if you’re that in love with me?” Louis coughs out an awkward laugh, but it peters out once he realises Harry isn’t laughing. His ‘joke’ falls flat and Louis immediately feels uncomfortable.

Harry is quiet only for a few minutes, before he opens his mouth and says something that Louis was  _ not _ expecting. “Shall we buy something? For the baby?”

“I- like what?”

Harry shrugs his shoulders. “Clothes? A rattle? I dunno; whatever babies like.”

Louis agrees, and it’s only awkward for a little while. They wander into Mothercare (“Parentcare,” Harry says it should be) and straight to the tiny little white outfits. Harry is more enamoured than Louis is.

“Oh Lou, you have to get this!” Harry says about a little yellow t-shirt, and then the same about tiny little white socks, and the most miniature denim jacket you ever did see.

To be fair, Louis too could’ve spent hours getting lost in the aisles and come away with hundreds of pounds worth of stuff for his little one. Just when he thinks he’s found the one to top them all, something else catches his eye and melts his heart again.

However, he can’t help but notice the abundance of little outfits adorning the slogan ‘Mummy and Daddy love me’. He lives in a world where male pregnancy is most definitely a thing, yet outfits pertaining to having two dads are non-existent; honestly, who do they think is impregnating all these men?

“These are really cute,” Harry’s voice breaks Louis train of thought. “Lou, you  _ have _ to get these!”

“You’ve said that about everything in here, Hazza!”

The soft corduroy dungarees and striped t-shirt combo that Harry is holding up is cute though. 

“I’ll buy them then,” Harry says decisively. “It’ll be a gift from me.”

Louis begins to argue, saying that he doesn’t have to do that, but Harry cuts him off and plucks a size 0-3 months off the rail with a flourish. Louis rolls his eyes fondly and follows Harry to the next aisle. Harry can’t quite believe that there are babies small enough to fit into some of the clothes that they see, but the well documented risks and statistics of premature male-born babies tear through Louis’ mind all too clearly. Harry obviously, somehow picks up on that because he hastily grabs Louis’ hand and leads them to the tills.

They pay for the dungarees and then head outside. After about another hour of wandering round the shops, browsing but not buying, Louis is starting to feel tired. 

“Are you thinking about Mike?” Harry asks, and Louis is surprised to find that actually he wasn’t. His earlier anger at Michael’s absconding has simmered away somewhere along the line.

“I’m just tired,” Louis says, because it’s not really a lie. “If I’m like this now walking around for an hour, think what it’ll be like when I get bigger.”

_ If I get bigger _ , Louis thinks to himself, but he does his best to ignore the voices in his head. 

“Well, it’s just an excuse to put your feet up and get other people to do everything for you!” Harry exclaims happily. “Make the most of it, Lou. I bet once the baby is here, you’ll never know true rest ever again!”

Louis laughs along with his best friend, and their benign chatter for the rest of the bus journey helps to alleviate some of his concerns. Harry offers to come back to the flat with him, but it’s getting close to tea time now and Louis really should get back and start thinking of something to make for them to eat, so he declines. He does agree, however, to call Harry once he’s home.

*

Later on that evening, after a delectable dinner of chicken Kiev’s, oven chips and peas, Louis is lounging in the armchair, just on the cusp of falling asleep when Michael’s voice ruins that for him.

“What’s this?”

Louis sits upright in a state of confusion, the last grip of impending sleep clinging onto him for dear life until it falls away. Louis isn’t sure what Michael is holding at first, until he looks closer and realises it’s the Mothercare bag.

“Oh uh,” His brain short circuits, and at the last second he decides it’s probably best to abridge the truth a little. “Just a little something I bought for the baby.”

“You went shopping?”

“Well, I wo uld hardly call it shopping, just popped into a few shops while I was in town.”

“How much was it?” Michael asks, taking the tiny garment out of the plastic bag and holding it up. Louis can’t tell from his neutrally cold expression what he’s thinking.

“I dunno,” Louis panics, because he doesn’t know. “A tenner or so?”

“Sixteen pound,” Michael corrects him, reading the tag. Guilt strums though Louis, “That’s expensive, Lou.”

Louis shrugs and tries to lighten the mood with a soft laugh. “That’s all right, isn’t it? Baby is gonna need clothes, Michael.”

“I know that,” Michael says, a bit defensively. He doesn’t immediately continue. Louis studies his face and the niggling feeling that Michael is suspended somewhere between fighting and peacekeeping. “I… I just guess I wish I was there with you.”

Louis is stunned by what comes out of Michael’s mouth. He struggles to keep a lid on his emotions as he lets Michael’s words stir around inside his brain. There is a lot he could say in retaliation to Michael’s comments about doing things without him, but his precarious state both physically and mentally prevents him from making an outburst.

Louis lets it slide, apologises despite not being in the wrong, and they sit together in mostly comfortable silence for the rest of the evening until Louis excuses himself for a shower before bed. Michael joins him in bed after about an hour, and by that point Louis is too tired to argue anymore, too exhausted to hold any more hostility on his shoulders. He lets himself get lost in Michael’s arms, be kissed and sweet talked and be made, temporarily, to feel like he’s the most important person in the world.

  
  
  


Louis has been warned not to compare his pregnancy milestones to those of convention, but it is hard not to. It’s May now, and he’s into week sixteen but he has no bump, movements or symptoms at all to show for it, which is worrying. He hasn’t had an appointment since the last scan either, and the next one isn’t until next week, so anything could be going on inside him and he wouldn’t have a clue. Despite the fact that his mum, a nurse, has constantly tried to reassure him and promise him he’s glowing, Louis is still struggling to embrace it. 

Michael is the opposite; he won’t entertain the idea of  _ anything _ going wrong, so Louis finds he’s leaning more and more on Harry to talk him down when he’s got himself all worked up. 

In  the third week of May, Louis has himself a week off work, booked way before he was even pregnant, and he’s glad of it because between worrying about the baby and worrying about Michael, he’s knackered.

Harry’s shifts at Woollies have been cut back recently so he’s available almost all the time too, and by Wednesday Louis has seen so much of Harry he jokes that he should just move in.

“Oh yeah, dead cosy that’d be, tucked up in bed between you and Mike!”

Louis affords Harry’s comment a laugh, but something uneasy settles briefly inside him before he boots it out. They chat for a while but Harry sees through Louis’ thinly veiled discomfort quickly.

“Is everything all right, Lou?” He asks, his well-defined facial features schooled into a serious frown.

Louis feigns nonchalance at first, but as seems to constantly be the case nowadays it isn’t long before fat salty tears are rolling down his cheeks and all of his fears and anxieties around his pregnancy are laid out bare for Harry.

“I’m really proud of you, y’know?” Harry says quietly, just for Louis to hear. “I know you’re scared to hold on in case… well, y’know what I mean. But I know you’re gonna be an amazing dad, Lou.”

“Don’t!” Louis exclaims, laughing as Harry’s kind words set off another spring of tears. “I’m emotional, hormonal, exhausted, hungry, sore-”

“Sore?” Harry yelps in horror. 

“You  _ don’t _ wanna know!”

“No you’re right, I don’t!” Harry squawks with laughter.

With the mood suitably lightened now, Louis feels a lot better and Harry seems happy with himself that he could help. Harry’s imagination is vivid, and he talks with great clarity about what life will be like with a baby. Harry is carried away by his enthusiasm very quickly, and though Louis does feel slightly uncomfortable with this initially, it’s hard not to get caught up in his keenness.

“If it’s a girl, do you think she’ll be really girly or a tomboy?”

“Well, with two dads, one of whom has absolutely no clue about anything remotely feminine, she could well end up a tomboy. But then she’s gonna have four aunties, so… it’s anyone’s guess!” 

“Do you think it is a girl?” Harry asks with eyes wide as saucers.

Louis shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t really have any idea just yet. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I do but then sometimes I can see myself with a son. I dunno.”

“It’s too early to tell, I suppose,” Harry reconciles with a satisfied little shrug. “I still can’t believe they can tell the gender with the scan’s now! That’s amazing!”

Louis nods steadfastly because all of a sudden he feels a bit woozy and a bit panicked. “Yeah, only another month to go until the 20 week scan.”

“You’ll be at the half way point by then! Maybe even further than that if you have the baby early! God Lou, you’re half way to having a baby! How scary is that! I can’t wait!”

Louis just grins along, feeling more and more like he’s spinning out of control. Harry blabbers on obliviously, and then eventually grows tired and excuses himself. Coincidentally, ten minutes later Michael is home. Louis thinks that he has successfully managed to bottle up his emotions, but all it takes is for Michael to ask him if he’s all right for the waterworks to start again.

Michael looks a curious mix of irritated and concerned as he stands before Louis demanding to know what’s going on. Louis feels helpless as he sniffles and snots everywhere.

“Nothing just- just, I-”

“Come on, Lou, spit it out! What’s happened?”

“Nothing!” Louis exclaims frustratedly. “We were just chatting and talking about the baby and- and I realised like, it’s getting close now – I mean I’m almost half way through! I just… I’m terrified, Michael!”

“We?” Michael questions. “Who’s we?”

Louis shrinks back, dread settling in his gut as he senses an argument brewing again. “Me and Harry?”

Michael’s shoulders sag. “For fuck’s sake, Lou! He hasn’t got a bloody clue has he! He’s just a kid himself, what’re you listening to him for?”

“He’s my best mate, babe!” Louis tries to reason. “I’m only like this ‘cause of the hormones, it’s not his fault!”

“There you go defending him again!” Michael explodes. “Do you really think it’s good for the baby all this crying and shouting?”

“Well you’re hardly making it better, are you, shouting at me like this!” Louis can feel his eyes filling with hot tears once again.

“Well it pisses me off, always having to pick up the pieces after he does something to mess everything up!”

“You don’t always have to do that!” Louis protests, though he’s feeling way too fragile to argue. “Stop it please, okay? I’m sorry!”

Louis fears that Michael is going to keep going, but then he retracts himself and the wind drops from his sails. He doesn’t so much as apologise, nor tell Louis he’s not the one in the wrong so shouldn’t be apologising, but at least the arguing stops.

*

Later that week on Sunday, by way of an apology Michael takes Louis to the cinema to see About a Boy, which has been out for a few weeks. The cinema is busy but not packed, and they have their row to themselves. Louis enjoys the film, he’s glad they ended up seeing this rather than The Sum of All Fears, which seems a bit explode-y and loud for Louis’ current mood. 

*

June rolls around and Louis is officially into his seventeenth week of pregnancy. All being well, he’s got another twenty to go. All  _ not _ being well, he could have anything from thirteen to eighteen weeks to go. Saturday the first of June is a nice day weather wise, so they get together with Louis’ mum and all the girls for a barbecue out in the back garden. Due to the sheer amount of bedrooms needed, Jay’s house naturally comes with a lot of land, and it’s been a haven for the girls growing up.

Double doors from the lounge and from the kitchen lead out onto a large patio area, and then its grass as far as the eye can see (well, a good hundred feet or so). The twins have a double swing and a slide, there’s a patch of grass permanently discoloured from the paddling pool, and lining the fence are beautifully manicured flower patches that Jay spends almost all her free time tending to and perfecting.

“Oh my beautiful boy, look at that bump!” Jay exclaims as she pulls Louis into a squeeze as they arrive.

“Oh give over mum, there’s nothing there!” Louis mumbles.

“Nonsense!” Jay says as she releases him and hugs Michael. “He’s glowing, isn’t he Michael? Radiant!”

The twins play remarkably nicely together, going up and down the slide a thousand times before switching to the swings. Lottie has rolled her pedal pushers up to her knees and is tanning herself quite happily, while Fizzy remains insistent that she’s staying inside to play on the PS2. Jay has given up trying to bargain with her.

“She’ll come out when the food’s ready!” Jay declares as she sits down, Pimms in hand. “So, my darlings! How is everything? Are you excited?”

Louis feels queasy as he nods. “Yeah, quite excited mum. Bit nervous too, mind.”

“Oh, you’re bound to be!” Jay wafts her hand dismissively. “Get as caught up on sleep as you can now, because once little one comes you won’t be getting any rest for at least the first three months! They’re like torture those early days!”

Louis and Michael share a nervous glance between them but Michael manages a convincing smile. 

“Hopefully between us we’ll make it through.”

“Oh you will, loves. I’ve no doubt about it. That baby is going to be adored!”

Lottie starts wittering on about something to do with school then, so the topic steers away from babies for a while and Louis manages to settle himself. Alas, Fizzy does join them around the wooden patio table once the food is served, and Louis nibbles on his hot dog before perhaps over indulging in potato salad and coleslaw.

“You’ll have fierce indigestion later, my boy.” Jay grins wickedly.

She doesn’t have to know that yes, later on that evening when Louis is trying to sleep he’s almost in tears with heartburn so fierce all the milk in England couldn’t save him.

*

When Louis arrives at work for his shift on Monday morning, the managers call him into the office to tell him that in line with the health and safety policy, they’re taking him off shelf stacking and putting him onto tills for the foreseeable. 

Louis has to roll his eyes; they’ve known about this for weeks and they’re only just getting around to doing something about it, but he doesn’t argue. He’s put on till number four, taps his ID number into the keypad and wriggles about on the stool to get comfortable. Looking down at his belly it spills unattractively over the top of his trousers. 

With a petulant huff he looks up, his first customer of the day already beginning to pile up their shopping. Louis puts on his game face and vows to get through the day without complaining once.

  
  
  


It’s a boy.

They’re going to have a son.

Louis’ pretty much in tears from the moment he lays down on the couch, and he’s a blubbering mess all the way back to work too. Thankfully, Michael actually sticks around long enough to drive him back to work this time. 

Louis’ too bloody excited to work, so getting through his three hour shift is absolute torture, but as soon as he’s done he scurries off to the break room and grabs all his stuff before heading down to the shop floor and heading straight to the clothing section. 

Confirmation of his son’s health via the scan earlier had been the most overwhelming, joyous feeling. Now that Louis thinks about it though, his tummy has been steadily growing over the last few weeks and his work trousers have been less and less comfy until his mum showed him a trick involving a hair tie.

Unlike before in Mothercare with Harry, looking at all the baby clothes today feels nice. He wishes that Michael was here to do this with him, but it’s only one shopping trip. There will be more. Multipacks of little white vests and sleep suits catch Louis’ eye; they all look so neat and pristine. He reaches up and feels the plastic outer packaging, letting it crinkle beneath his fingertips. 

“Hey gorgeous,” A Geordie accent behind him pipes up, and he turns around to see his best work friend Perrie sauntering towards him with a broad grin. “Little birdie tells me you’re having a boy!”

They both shriek and cuddle in the aisle right there, Perrie yelling her congratulations and Louis profusely thanking her, close to tears. 

“Tell me you’re gonna get some of these?” Perrie demands as she snatches the cutest little pair of soft-bottomed baby shoes off the rail. 

If money was no object Louis would buy out the entire shop. However, his budget will only stretch so far, even with staff discount, but he does come away with two outfits, a pack of first size vests and a pack of tiny little socks. His joy is short-lived, though, when he gets home.

“Been on another shopping trip with your best mate?” Michael sneers as he peers into the carrier bag.

Louis deflates like a pricked balloon. “Michael, please! Why- no, okay? I got them from work after my shift! Why do you have to be like this all the time?”

He can already feel his emotions getting the better of him, damn it; his voice quivers and a lump in his throat quickly fills the space, making breathing difficult.

“Well!” Michael raises his hands. “Can you blame me? He’s always there, Lou!”

“Because he’s my best mate; pretty much the only friend I have now, too!”

“You have me!”

Louis has to physically stop himself from scoffing. “You’re always at work! Work is all you care about, Michael! What about me, and our son? You haven’t even said anything about that!”

“Well, it’s not like it changes much! We’re still just waiting of the baby to come, just ‘cause we knows it’s a boy now doesn’t change much!”

Louis’ moth drops open. “I can’t believe you just said that!”

There is a bitter silence then that runs on for days. Louis goes to bed before Michael on the Friday night, and when he wakes up in the morning Michael’s side of the bed is empty but still warm. Louis spends Saturday at his mum’s house, allowing the girls to poke and prod at his bump all day long, and then pour his heart out to his mum in the evening. Mrs Creighton from next door comes round to sit downstairs while Jay drives him home on Saturday evening. 

Michael is already asleep when Louis gets home. Louis sits alone on the sofa for hours, well into the small hours. He pulls the waistband of his pyjama bottoms down underneath the bump and rucks his t-shirt up under his arms. He runs his hands along the expanse of skin. It’s still not very ‘bumpy’ in his opinion, but it’s definitely there. He watches his tummy go up and down as he breathes, watches goosebumps spring up all over it as he shivers.

It’s half past one in the morning by now and the heating hasn’t been on all evening. He places a hand on either side of his belly, feeling the skin and trying to discern a shape or something tangible, when out of nowhere he feels something popping inside him. 

It’s followed by what Louis could only describe as a ripple. He freezes, scrambles to his feet and runs through the flat towards Michael, thumping the light switch on with his fist as he enters.

“Michael, the baby is kicking! He’s kicking, Mikey, wake up!”

Michael shoots up and out of bed, completely dazed. “Whatsgoingon?”

“The baby kicked!” Louis shouts again, grabbing Michael’s hands and dragging him forwards, placing his hands on his belly. “I felt it, Mikey, I felt him move!”

They both cling to the bump; waiting with bated breath as Louis’ stomach does absolutely nothing at all. “Just wait, it’ll happen again.” Louis murmurs quietly between them, and to his credit, Michael’s hands never falter once.

Louis is just about to give up hope when their little boy shifts inside him again, tumbling over once and then going still again. Michael shouts out as he feels it too, and Louis’ close to tears (just for a change) as they laugh and cry in disbelief.

Louis’ catches Michael’s eye in the thick of it all, and there’s warmth in his brown eyes again that Louis hasn’t seen for a while. “I’m sorry,” Michael says softly. “I’m a dickhead sometimes.”

Louis examines his face. He’s genuine. “I know,” He whispers with a small smile. “It’s okay.”

“Let’s go out for a Sunday lunch later,” Michael suggests. Louis can’t resist roasties and Yorkshire pudding. “Just us; some proper quality time together.”

Louis’ heart does a little flip in his chest at the endearment. He nods in agreement.

“Let’s get back into bed,” Michael says dozily, and Louis then remembers the time. He climbs into bed and Michael perches on the edge of the mattress, waiting while Louis tosses and turns to get comfy. Once he’s finally happy on his side with one leg bent at the knee and the other extended out straight, one arm tucked under the pillow and the other free, Michael lies down too. 

Michael is asleep again in just a few moments. It takes Louis a little while longer to go off, but when sleep does find him, he’s feeling happier and calmer than he has done in weeks.

*

They go for their Sunday lunch, and it’s nice. On Monday the working week starts again, and Louis is back on the tills again. Except this time, he’s got his little future Premier League striker shifting about inside his belly sporadically, and it’s almost impossible to resist the urge to announce it on the Tannoy every time he moves. 

  
  
  


The middle of July brings a heat wave, and heat waves in the UK mean squeezing in as many barbecues in the back garden as you can. Louis’ been to another one at his mum’s house, one at Michael’s parents’ house and now, today they’re all together for a barbecue at Anne and Harry’s. Louis feels happy and content, surrounded by Harry’s mum and sister, two of her friends, Harry and his college friends, Jay, all four of Louis’ sisters and Michael too. 

Anne and Jay embrace like they haven’t seen each other for ten years, and as soon as Anne spots Louis she makes a beeline for him, clucking and fussing over him. Louis is 24 weeks gone and very obviously pregnant now; there is no hiding it. Everything from his hips downwards is wider, and his belly no longer goes away if he takes a deep breath in. He sort of loves it, though, and the warm weather makes everything better. 

Louis, of course, cannot drink so he’s on the lemonades, but everyone else around him that is of age is getting slowly drunker - even Lottie chugged a Bacardi Breezer when Jay wasn’t looking. He’s having the time of his life, though, sitting in his chair gently cradling his little bump and watching everyone he loves the most around him having fun.

As the day goes on and the sun climbs higher in the sky, the girls start a water fight. They have the slide angled into the padding pool, and with each splash the pool gets emptier and emptier; aka with each splash Harry and Michael have to refill the pool. 

Louis is just pleased to see them apparently getting on for a change.

Eventually, Harry tires of being water boy and moves over to accompany Anne and Jay at the barbecue. Louis watches them fondly for a moment before Michael throws himself down in the empty seat next to him which snatches Louis’ attention.

“Hi love,” Louis smiles. “All right? Having fun?”

“Yeah,” Michael nods. “Bloody soaked!”

“The girls are having a great time,” Louis gazes over to where it’s Phoebe and Fizzy versus Lottie and Daisy. Besides, it’s warm enough you’ll dry off in no time.”

“Are you feeling okay? Are you comfy?” Michael asks, and Louis assures him he is. “Can I get you anything?”

“Well, I’m gagging for an ice cold beer but as that’s off the cards right now another glass of pop would be ace, thanks.”

Louis goes back to watching his sisters while Michael is away getting his drink. He finds himself getting a bit misty eyed watching the young girls frolic and play freely, without a care in the world. Damn pregnancy hormones.

“Here y’are,” Michael appears in Louis’ line of vision, holding out a pint of bubbles with a straw and a cocktail umbrella in. “Enjoy!”

Louis’ heart does a little flip and he grins, already overcome with emotion, as he takes the glass. “Thanks, babe.”

*

Talk turns to the baby once everyone is sat around the table with their plates piled high. Jay talks Anne’s ear off with her joy at becoming a grandmother, and the twins are excited about becoming aunties too. The older two, unfortunately, are well aware of what the implications of Louis being pregnant are, and they’re mortified at the mere mention of it. Lottie’s cheeks flare bright red as the discussions continue.

“Have you thought about names?” Anne asks.

That’s a good question, because Louis does have a few that are rattling around in his head, but none that he’s discussed with Michael yet.

“Nah, not got that far yet!” Michael says dismissively, and Louis immediately jumps in.

“Well… I mean, I’ve thought a little bit about it. I’m not sure yet, but I would definitely like his middle name to be Michael.”

Louis beams as the mum’s  _ awww  _ in succession. “That’s a lovely idea, sweetheart.” Anne grins.

The twins ask if they think it will look like Louis or like Michael, and seem perplexed by Louis’ answer that he will probably be a mix of the two of them. 

“Are you gonna have a baby shower?” Harry asks, and the entire ensemble goes quiet.

“A what?” Michael splutters, and Harry shrinks back a bit at the reaction. 

“A baby shower?” Harry repeats, though not confidently. “Y’know, like… like a party before he’s born? They’re really becoming a thing now, and they’re really good fun too.”

“I‘ve never really seen those happening outside of the films.”

“Sounds a bit Americanised to me,” Michael laughs dismissively. “Don’t think that’s really us, is it Lou?”

“Well, never say never, right?” Louis says, keen not to upset Harry, but if looks could kill, Louis would be dead right now. “It’s not like we have to decide now, is it?”

Michael opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but then he stops. He picks up his can and takes a long sip, and then when he’s done he gets to his feet. Louis picks at his potato salad, not feeling like it at all now. He tries to catch Harry’s eye, but he and his college mates are laughing and joking about something that doesn’t involve Louis and it’s impossible. The sicky feeling in his tummy mixed with the hard lump forming in his throat makes Louis push his plate away.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Jay quickly notices how quiet Louis has become and sits down in the empty seat to Louis’ left. “How are you feeling?”

Louis shrugs. “Bit tired. My back’s a bit sore.”

“My love,” Jay reaches behind and carefully kneads the bottom of Louis’ back. “I would offer you a hot water bottle for the pain but I don’t think that’d help in this weather!”

“S’alright mum, I’m okay. Maybe I should get up and walk around a bit?”

“Could do, love,” Jay nods, smiling softly. “Do you want anything else to eat?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“All right my love, you know where I am if you need me.”

Louis nods, forcing a smile, and he gets up out of his seat. His feet and ankles feel stiff as he first sets off but then gradually loosen up again. He does a quick lap of the garden, keeping his head down in an attempt to keep anyone from approaching him. He’s aware of Michael coming back out from the kitchen, but he just goes and sits back down. 

Louis squelches through the waterlogged grass, past the slide and the paddling pool and away from the hubbub. He picks random leaves off the hedges as he goes, twirling them in his fingers before letting them drop. He loves this house and garden; he wishes he could’ve grown up here instead of the cramped three bed semi that he did grow up in. The girls love it here, having the freedom to run around, and maybe one day his son will too.

“Lou?” A quiet voice behind him pipes up, and it’s so soft Louis could almost mistake it for the brushing of the breeze through the trees.

Louis turns around to find Harry standing about five feet away, sheepishly tugging on his sleeves.

“Are you all right?”

Louis paints on a bright smile. “Yeah lad, just stretching me legs. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, though he looks far from comfortable. “I uh… I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you with Mike with what I said about a baby shower. I didn’t think… I didn’t realise it was weird, or whatever.”

“It’s not weird,” Louis is quick to reassure Harry. “It’s just Michael; you know what he’s like. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asks again. “I feel bad; I’ve ruined your afternoon.”

“No you haven’t, don’t be mental!” Louis tries to lighten the mood with a jovial grin. “I’m still having a top afternoon, Harry, I’m just feeling a bit achy and a bit knackered.”

Harry’s eyes narrow with concern. “Are you all right? Do you want me to get someone?”

“No!” Louis laughs. “I’m fine! C’mon, let’s walk back over. I thought I fancied a walk but actually I think I fancy a sit down.”

They head back to the group and Louis sits down gratefully, waving politely to Harry’s college friends when they announce they’re making their way home now. Not long after that, Gemma heads off too. The older girls dissipate and Jay disappears inside to get the twins ready for bed, with Anne following behind to start on the washing up, despite Jay’s insistence that she leaves it.

That just leaves Harry, Louis and Michael. It’s silent and awkward for quite a while, Michael sipping slowly on his drink, Harry picking his nails and Louis clutching his bump and staring at the ground.

“George,” Harry suddenly says, and both Louis and Michael look up in surprise. “You could call the baby George. George Michael.”

Harry grins resiliently, and Louis has to smile too. Even Michael snorts softly. 

“Good one, Harry.” Louis says, feeling a giddy thrill twist through him at even the most basic of pleasant interactions between his boyfriend and his best friend. 

  
  
  


Nothing happens for a week or so. Baby boy’s kicks get stronger and Louis’ body gets bigger; it feels like he just blows up like a balloon between weeks twenty five and twenty six. And it’s not just his belly; his hips, arse, thighs and ankles are all affected too.

“Jesus, how fat do I look?” He moans to Michael one morning as they’re getting ready for work. Butt naked and standing in front of the mirror in their room, Louis soothes his hands over the bump and then around his hips where he can actually grab handfuls of spare flesh. “This is disgusting, look at me!” Louis grabs a bum cheek in each hand and jiggles them around like a bloody lava lamp.

“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant. You’ll lose the weight after.” Michael says from across the room where he’s pulling on his polo shirt.

Well, it’s not quite the reassurance Louis was looking for, but he supposes it’ll have to do. Last week they gave him an extra-extra-large t-shirt for work and he scowls at it hanging on the hanger on the door handle.

“I might just lie on the floor all day like the beached whale I am,” Louis mumbles, mostly to himself because Michael’s not listening. “I don’t think I’ll even get my thunder thighs in these trousers anymore.”

“Louis,” Michael says suddenly, making Louis jump slightly. “You know, even with a bit of extra weight around your middle I still fancy ya.”

Michael’s words take Louis by surprise, but even more surprising than that is the hand that trails its way around his half-dressed body towards his bare but oft-neglected cock. Michael’s fingers wrap around him, their bodies pressed together closely. They kiss, with purpose, for the first time in what feels like weeks, and Michael brings Louis easily to the edge before dropping to his knees and finishing to job off.

Louis’ too sated and blindsided by the spontaneous sex to be conscious of how close Michael is to his most self-conscious bits, and it’s not long before Michael is back on his feet again and wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before disappearing, leaving Louis still fat, still uncomfortable, just slightly less sexually frustrated. 

  
  
  


Louis has another scan at 28 weeks, and it’s amazing to see how much their little peanut has grown in two months. He’s a proper, real life baby now with distinguishable features and everything. He moves almost constantly now, and it’s almost always at night too, when Louis himself is trying to sleep. More times than he is happy to admit he ends up sleeping alone on the sofa just because the mere presence of another human body in his personal space is enough to make him see red.

The week Louis turns 30 weeks pregnant he has the week off work. Coincidentally, Harry has the beginning of the week off too. On Monday, Louis spends most of the morning in bed once Michael has gone off to work, finally able to stretch out across the whole bed and get into a comfy position.

In the afternoon Louis gets himself dressed in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of Michael’s shorts and shuffles down to the park to meet Harry. Louis is home by the time Michael gets in so he won’t have to listen to a lecture about staying close to home just in case. 

Tuesday is similarly relaxing; Harry comes by at about eleven and then they head into town on the bus to go shopping for nappies and wet wipes. Harry carries a bumper pack of Pampers in each hand, swinging them proudly the entire way back to the bus stop.

On  Wednesday, Harry comes by in the morning briefly, on the premise that he’s checking in on Louis, before mysteriously disappearing. Louis decides that it’s such a lovely August morning he’s not going to waste it being housebound, so he gets ready and takes a very slow walk to his mum’s house.

“You daft sod!” Jay swats at him with a frown when he shows up on her door step an hour and ten minutes later, sweating profusely and almost bent double in agony.

Louis collapses in the sun lounger in the back garden, not worrying for now how he’s going to get back up later, and spends a blissful afternoon in the sun, nodding off more than once, and waking up to a foot or an elbow or a knee or something else in his ribs.

“Oi, you little bugger!” He yelps, reaching up to the sore point and rubbing.

“Hey, that’s my grandson you’re talking to!” Jay chastises him jokingly.

By about four o’clock Louis feels ready to leave, but Jay seems reluctant. She’s insistent on driving him home, but she doesn’t want to leave yet. Though he should do, Louis doesn’t notice anything amiss just yet. He doesn’t even twig when his mum reappears from upstairs with a different top on and her hair out of its ponytail and brushed smooth. 

As such, he’s completely unprepared when they arrive back at the flat to balloons and banners, a buffet table and music filtering in from the kitchen. 

“Happy baby shower!” A chorus of words to that effect greets him, familiar faces springing up from everywhere.

Perrie, Louise and Ed from work are here, as well as Zayn and Niall, Gemma and Anne, all of the girls and Jay, and of course, Harry. The only person missing is Michael.

Louis doesn’t know how to feel as he plasters on a grin and tries to hold back the tears. He tries to take everything in, accepting the congratulations and the gifts, and the buffet table that someone has clearly gone to  _ a lot _ of trouble with.

“Lou!” Harry’s voice cuts through the crowd, and Louis turns to seek out his friend. Harry looks pleased as punch as he approaches, and Louis just isn’t sure which of his supercharged emotions is going to come spilling out first.

“Michael’s not here?” Louis hears himself say, and the dedication to his other half isn’t even worth the soul-destroying drop of Harry’s smile. “I just mean… I’m sorry. Thank you, I love it.”

“I didn’t think Michael would care if he missed it,” Harry hurries to explain. “He should be home soon though, right? He won’t miss everything, I’m sure there’ll still be buffet or something left if-”

“Harry!” Louis has to cut him off, because every word is breaking Louis’ heart just a little bit more. “Harry, stop! I can’t- I’m so overwhelmed, I just can’t focus on anything!”

“Do you not like it?” He asks, barely making any sound at all.

“I do, I love it. I really do. I’m just… I’m so bloody overwhelmed and tired, Hazza. I… I’m just exhausted.”

Louis leans forward for a cuddle, or maybe he falls forward into Harry’s arms, but either way he can feel his lanky, wiry best friend supporting all of his own weight plus baby’s too. They can just about embrace, even with the football stuffed up Louis’ shirt getting in the way. Harry wraps one arm around Louis’ shoulders for support and gently massages the small of his back with the other, and it feels divine.

“I’m sorry Lou, I wasn’t thinking. I feel awful.”

“Don’t,” Louis sniffles into Harry’s shoulder, not letting go of him. “I’m just over emotional, you know how it is. I’m okay. It’s okay. Thank you for doing this for me.”

*

By the time Michael’s key sounds in the door, the only ones left are Harry and his friends. The roll of nervy dread that passes through Louis at the sound is unwelcome and a bit frightening. 

“Hi love,” Michael mumbles; he hasn’t looked up yet. “Everything all right?”

Louis gets to his feet, struggling slightly. The other lads lower their heads and stay seated. Michael chucks his keys onto the side board noisily and then turns to face Louis, looking up for the first time. Louis studies Michael’s face closely as he reacts to the vision that greets him.

“What’s all this?”

“I uh, I had a little baby shower. You know, like what we were-”

“What the hell, Lou?” Michael suddenly explodes, and Louis isn’t sure if he even realises they’ve still got company. “In my home, while I’ve been at work? How many people were here?”

“Mikey, please-”

“What’s the obsession with fucking baby showers anyway?!”

“Mikey!” Louis yelps desperately, and then Michael must realise they’re in company because he stops and just storms through towards their bedroom. Louis feels he has no choice but to follow.

“Michael, please! He’s my best friend, why can’t you cut him a bit of slack?” Louis hisses once the door is closed behind him, conscious of the three of them being able to hear every single word.

“I’m just in from work, I’ve had a shit day and I don’t want him here! He needs to back off, Louis, I’m telling you.”

“You’re tell- Michael, he’s my best friend and has been since we were kids. No harm done, okay? What’s the problem?”

“The problem is him!” Michael isn’t bothering to keep his own voice down. “Every time I turn around, there he is! Every time you open your mouth, it’s about him! You may as well be having this baby with him! I’m just watching from the side lines. And now, this fucking baby shower! What the hell is that about, Louis?”

“It was just a bit of buffet and some presents for the baby, Michael. What’s the problem?”

“ _ We _ can buy the stuff for  _ our _ baby, Louis!” Michael protests. “He needs to back off.”

“Michael, he can hear you, you know?!” Louis glares desperately at Michael.

“And?” Michael throws his arms up. “I’m done with this, Lou, either he backs off a bit, or… or so help me fucking God.”

“You don’t…” Louis utters, but he can’t say any more than that. Great big tears run down his face freely, and Michael is doing nothing about it apart from making it worse. Standing there on either side of their unmade bed, an ocean separating them, Louis has never felt more alone.

Michael doesn’t say a word. He turns his back on Louis and collapses onto the edge of the bed. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low between his shoulders. Louis watches them rise and fall as he breathes, still not saying a word.

The baby kicks then, almost as if he’s reminding his daddy that he’s not alone, even if it feels that way right now. Instinctively, Louis cups his hand around the lowest part of the bump, looking down at his belly and silently apologising to baby for everything. Michael still doesn’t move, or say anything at all, and Louis is conscious of the fact that Harry just heard all of that.

By the time Louis comes back out of the bedroom with his blotchy face dried and his excuses at the ready, his living room is empty.

  
  
  


Things remain fractious for the rest of the evening and into the next day too. One of the only times they speak to each other is when Michael tells Louis to take the bed and he’ll take the sofa. Louis’ not sure he gets any sleep at all. 

Louis sees the sun come up just after six AM, and not long after that hears Michael start shuffling around in the living room. When he comes into the bedroom to get his clothes, Louis pretends to be asleep. Michael is in and out again within a few seconds. Louis opens his eyes again and isn’t surprised at all to find that he’s crying again. 

A few hours later, when slouching over in his bed with a folded up pillow wedged underneath the bump is no longer comfortable, Louis gets up. He wanders cautiously into the living room, though he knows Michael is long gone. A dark and horrible place in Louis’ mind questions whether Michael will even come home tonight, but he squeezes his eyes tightly shut and shakes that thought away. 

Breakfast doesn’t go down well at all, and sits uncomfortably in Louis’ chest just above the big lump of baby. At eleven AM the pains start. Louis thinks a nice warm bath might help, so he runs one and strips down to his lumpy, stripy naked self. He refuses to open his eyes until as much of him as possible is submerged under water, which with a belly as big as his, is not a lot.

The bath is somewhat relieving, but Louis’ overall feeling is one of discomfort. He gets out and dries off, managing to find a comfy spot on the sofa for ten minutes or so, however after ten minutes or so that position starts to hurt his back so he tries lying on his side. He’s too wide for that, however, so tries walking around the flat with his arms above his head stretching out his tired, taut muscles.

“For fuck’s sake!” He screams into the empty room, irritated at everything and everyone, but mostly himself. There’s nothing on the telly, his belly aches for food that he can’t handle, his back itches right where he can’t reach and just when Louis thinks things can’t get any worse a sharp jolt shoots up through his body.

He freezes on the spot, arms still aloft, terrified to move another muscle. There is another pain, and baby tumbles over so vigorously the outline of actual limbs is visible under Louis’ t-shirt. Whatever is going on inside is making the shooting pains feel worse, and the next thing Louis knows he can feel dampness where dampness certainly should not be. He leaps up, absolute agony radiating through his thighs and back. Evidence of his pain is left behind; bright red evidence.

“Shit, shit, shit! Oh fuck, what do I do!?” He shrieks to nobody, because he’s all alone. Something is seriously wrong and he’s all alone.

Somehow, pure adrenaline gets him to the house phone, and he dials the number he knows off by heart. Every shrill ring of the phone in his ear is like torture, and then nothing happens. Try after try, Louis just keeps getting Michael’s voicemail. On the fifth attempt he breaks down as the automated voice greets him.

“Michael, help me! I need your help, we need you! It hurts and there’s blood and I can’t- argh-” Another pain shoots through him and doubles him up. “It hurts, I’m so scared Michael, please please  _ please _ look at your bloody phone!”

He expects the thing to miraculously start ringing in his hand, but it doesn’t. Panic stricken, Louis tries Harry, punching in his home phone number as accurately as he can despite his shaking fingers. It rings and it rings before Anne’s pre-recorded voice cuts in telling Louis that they’re not there right now, and to please leave a message. 

Louis then tries his mum, praying she’s home like she normally is and not off out gallivanting.

“Mum, help me! Help me please, mum, there’s blood and it hurts!”

“Oh my God! Louis love, calm down! Are you at the flat? Are you on your own?”

“Yes!” He screams. “Help me mum; I don’t know what to do!”

“Okay, I’ll be there in five minutes - less than that, I’ll be there in  _ two _ minutes! Breathe through it, darling, I’m coming!”

*

Jay finds him seven minutes later in a heap on the kitchen floor, blood transferring through his joggers onto the linoleum but he’s too scared to look. Her calmness and attentiveness in the face of his absolute panic is something Louis will marvel over later; she gets him up and into her car with a thick wad of towels to sit on.

Louis hears his name being called as he’s helped into the car, and for a moment he thinks it’s Michael here to save the day at the last second, but then he sees a very red and very sweaty Harry lolloping across the street clutching his side like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Lou, we got your message! All we could hear was crying!” Harry shrieks between huge gulping great breaths. “Jay, is the baby coming? What’s happening?”

“Calm down love, or you’re gonna be in a hospital bed of your own!” Jay sees that Louis is settled and then rounds up Harry too. “C’mon, get in the back. We’re going up to the DRI to get Lou checked over!”

*

Louis is admitted directly to the delivery suite from Accident & Emergency, which sends him into an immediate spin and Jay has to reassure him countless times that it doesn’t mean they want him to deliver the baby immediately. 

Louis is inconsolable as they wheel him off, away from Harry and his mum for tests. It’s a horrendous, undignified ordeal that involves far too much of his bum, but eventually Louis is given the all clear. The relief that his baby is safe and isn’t going to be forced out into the world today is all that matters. They’ve given him a stitch high up inside and packed him with what is essentially a tampon, checked all of his vitals and monitored hours and hours of baby’s heartbeat. He’s been poked, prodded and probed enough to last him a lifetime, and now he’s okay to leave he just wants to go home and lay down. 

Then it hits him all over again. Home. What is home? That awful box where he lives with Michael; Michael the father of his child, who isn’t even there. Louis’ hungry but nauseous, and it hurts him right in the centre of his chest. His boy is shifting periodically, though it’s more the occasional arm jerk than full body turns now.

Jay has disappeared to the ground floor to make some calls on her mobile, leaving Louis perched tentatively on the edge of his hospital bed and Harry in the armchair opposite him. He’s got the sleeves of his fleece pulled down over his hands and his curls have parted themselves down the middle, hanging in his eyes. He’s playing the role of stressed out, panic stricken father-to-be much better than the  _ actual _ father-to-be, who can’t even be bothered to show up. 

“How could he leave me when I need him the most?” Louis murmurs. He hadn’t really meant to say it out loud.

Harry peers up at him, pushing his hair out of his eyes with his still covered fists. “I’m not gonna say it, Lou, because I don’t think you need to hear it right now.”

Louis frowns, letting his shoulders sag and his head drop. He closes his eyes against this cruel reality. Harry saying nothing at all just says it all really. 

“I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry says again, reaching over and resting a hand tentatively on Louis’ leg. “I’m happy you and the baby are okay. I’m sorry that you were on your own and frightened.”

“It’s all right,” Louis whispers, lifting his head and opening his eyes. “Nobody could’ve known.”

Louis glances quickly at Harry; he looks like he wants to say more but he doesn’t, which is fortunate because at that moment, Michael comes bursting into the room.

“Lou!” He dashes over, not acknowledging Harry at all. “I’m so sorry, Lou, I was on a job and I didn’t look at me phone until- oh shit, I’m sorry. Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?” 

“Fine,” Louis nods, tears welling up in him once again. “Baby is fine.”

Michael grabs both of his hands and doesn’t let go, and when Louis looks up at him he’s aware of Harry in the background. His gaze flits over to his friend and Harry scrambles to his feet without Louis having to ask, and he’s grateful for that. 

“I’m gonna go and find your mum, Lou.”

“Okay Hazza,” Louis whispers, the tears breaking as he watches Harry go.

Michael wants to know everything, too little too late, but Louis doesn’t fancy going over it all again so soon. He breaks down again as he thinks about it all, and Michael gets him to his feet and wraps him up in a big cuddle. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t rub Louis’ back the way he likes, he just holds him there. Holds him up, otherwise Louis is afraid he might’ve collapsed to the ground. 

The very soft sound of someone clearing their throat in the doorway breaks Louis and Michael apart. Louis looks over. It’s his mum; she’s standing timidly in the doorway smiling gently. 

“Ready when you are, babe.”

*

Louis has completely forgotten about the scenes he left behind at the flat when they rushed out several hours earlier. Thank God Michael goes into the flat first; he visibly pale at the sight but he quickly ushers Louis away from it so he doesn’t have to see it. 

Louis feels numb as he sits on the sofa facing the wall, trying to ignore the fact that his boyfriend is on his hands and knees in the kitchen scrubbing up blood. Getting comfy is nearly impossible, but then Michael appears with a cuppa which Louis drinks gratefully. Even the best brew in the world isn’t enough to take away Louis’ discomfort. Eventually Louis gives up trying and hauls himself to his feet with the intention of heading to the bathroom to sort everything out down there.

Michael leaps to his feet too. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” Louis says, pointing towards the small hallway off their lounge. “I have… I need to sort some stuff out.”

“I’ll help you!”

“No!” Louis snaps a bit too forcefully. “Sorry, just… I wanna do it by myself. It’s fine.”

“All right,” Michael agrees, backing off and sitting back down.

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles, adding guilt into the mix of emotions. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Michael nods to acknowledge he’s heard Louis, but doesn’t speak. Louis shuffles down the hall feeling like complete shit. He showers because he smells like hospital, and despite them cleaning him up he’s still paranoid. It’s been two hours now so he’s safe to remove the pack, which would be straight forward if it wasn’t for the awkward angle he has to manoeuvre his inflated body into to get at it. 

He shudders at the idea of  _ anyone _ seeing him vulnerable like this. He thinks about Michael sitting in their front room just a few feet away, and the reality of the situation dawns on him. A lump in his throat and - just for a change - tears form as he stands under the warm spray of the shower coming to terms with the fact that Michael might not be The One. It’s a damning realisation to have at any time, let alone at thirty weeks pregnant. 

The shower water washes away his tears so nobody expect Louis would know he’s been crying. 

*

Michael seems less jittery by the time Louis comes back from his shower. Louis himself feels a bit better too now, more comfortable at least. He sits down on the sofa, one cushion behind his back and one by his side to prop himself up.

“They’ve given me a form to give to work,” He remembers suddenly, so he tells Michael. “They recommended I don’t go back after my week off; which basically means that my parental leave starts today.”

Michael looks up and nods, though he looks absent. More silence ensues, and Louis lets his head tip back and rest on the back of the sofa. He closes his eyes and realises just how exhausted he is - physically and mentally. The silence prevails, and Louis can feel himself going lax with sleep quite quickly. He’s just on the brink when-

“Why was he there?” 

Louis’ heart sinks and he’s quickly wide awake again. “Michael, please! Are we really doing this, again?”

“Why was he there, Lou?” Michael persists. “Why did you call him before me?”

“I didn’t bloody call him before you!” Louis’ voice is already wavering and high. “I called you first, bloody hundreds of times, and you know that! You didn’t answer and I needed someone, Michael! I needed help, I was bleeding everywhere and in agony, I thought I was losing our baby!” Michael does have the decency to look shamefaced. “I called you, I called him and I called my mum! I wasn’t thinking straight, I was pure panicking and didn’t know what to do!”

Louis’ outburst culminates in a stitch in his left side. Though he knows that’s all it is, he still feels on edge. Michael stays silent throughout and afterwards too. Louis presses his palm into his left side, temporary relief of the stitch until his son decides that is not on and kicks against the intrusion. Louis wonders briefly if he is aware of what’s going on outside his little bubble of amniotic fluid.

Michael sighs loudly and runs his hands through his hair. “I think… I think we need a break away, Lou.”

Louis scrunches up his face. “A holiday? Really Michael?”

“No,” Michael interrupts solemnly. “A break from us, Louis. I’ll be there for you for anything to do with our son, but this isn’t working and hasn’t been for a long time now. I’m sorry.”

Breathing is hard. His vision is swimming. His heart is breaking in his chest. “You… you what?”

“I’m gonna go and stay with Gaz from work for a bit,” Michael explains. “It’s nearby and I’ll give you the address if you need ‘owt. I still want to be involved with the baby. If anything happens I wanna know straight away.”

Louis snorts bitterly. “You’ve obviously had this all planned out for a while, if you’ve already got somewhere to stay!  _ How _ could you do this to me, Michael? Why now, of all times?” 

For all of Louis’ shouting and commotion, it ends with a fizzle rather than a bang. Michael leaves quietly, repeating softly that he’s sorry, but that’s it. 

Louis is alone now. 

*

Much of that first day after Michael leaves is a haze; that is until Michael’s key rattles in the lock. He lets himself in but he stays by the door, not stepping foot inside the flat. 

“Just making sure everything is all right,” He mutters, barely making eye contact. 

Louis feels like he could laugh, or cry. “No! Of course they’re not fucking all right!”

“I mean the baby.”

“Right,” Louis scoffs, nodding his head. “Course you do. Never mind the fact that you’ve left me on my own! The baby could come at any minute, Michael! We made this baby together; you don’t get to run from this! And all because you’re a little bit jealous of my best mate!”

Michael’s eyes go wide and he laughs, shaking his head. “If that’s what you think, then…”

“Well, why wouldn’t that be what I think? It takes two to make a baby, Michael! You were there, you know! And as for Harry, he’s been my best mate since we were pissing our pants at nursery school, why can’t you understand that? Me and you - we’re supposed to be a family! What the hell went wrong?” 

Michael laughs again, it’s a horrible sound. “Maybe you need to step back and take a look at what that so called ‘best friend’ of yours is really up to, Louis. If you’re looking for someone to blame for the breakup of your ‘family’, maybe you should be looking there!”

Louis goes to open his mouth to argue but Michael cuts him off again.

“Look at you! You’re so far past the point that you can’t even see what’s happening! He’s been more involved than I have been throughout your whole pregnancy! You told him first, Lou! Before me!”

“Oh c’mon Mikey, that was ages ago! And that’s not even how it happened!”

“I guarantee you two will end up together. Every time I turn around, he’s gonna be there, worming his way into my son’s life, worming his way into yours! He’s gonna be happy as a pig in shit when he finds out what’s happened here!”

“You’re wrong!” Louis tries to fight against the inevitable tears. “I love you Michael, and I want our son to have a proper family like he deserves! Something I never had! You’re wrong about Harry!”

“Yeah all right,” Michael swats the air. “We’ll see.”

Then he’s gone again, satisfied that Louis’ not in early labour obviously, because that’s all he cares about.

Louis spends most of the evening in tears on the phone to his mum. She isn’t surprised at all to hear that Michael has left. She has some very choice words to say about him, but her focus is on Louis and that’s nice. She asks if she needs to bring round old Mrs Creighton again but Louis assures her that no, he will survive the night. 

He’s not so sure about the rest of the days ahead though.

  
  
  


It’s September now; Tuesday the third to be precise and things are getting worse not better. Louis seems to wake up every morning with a new stretch mark and his ankles are like grapefruits on knitting needles. He’s barely sleeping because he’s so uncomfortable and anxious; although Louis knows that the bleeding he’d experienced was down to a cyst inside him that had ruptured and is unlikely to happen again, he lives in fear of it happening again.

Michael comes and goes, stays for five minutes and makes sure Louis isn’t dead then goes again. His mum has all the girls to look after, of course, so she isn’t around much but she does call every evening. And Harry; well, Louis hasn’t seen him since the hospital. 

Unfortunately, when Harry does show up again it’s right in the middle of one of the worst days of Louis’ life.

“Hiya Lou,” Harry says sheepishly at the door. “Is it okay to come in?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, his mouth moving to form the word but no sound coming out. He doesn’t correct himself.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as he steps inside and closes the door carefully behind him. He gives Louis a wide berth until he’s sat down, then follows in his footsteps and sits down too.

Louis shuffles about until he’s comfortable, which ends up being with one leg tucked underneath his body, the other outstretched and a pillow at his right side so he can lean over and relieve some of the pressure underneath the left side of his ribs.

“Are you all right?” Harry asks, watching Louis carefully.

“Yes,” Louis says curtly. “Just trying to get comfy with a foot in my ribs.”

Harry gaze softens as Louis mentions the baby. “I mean in general, Lou. What happened last week was scary.”

“I’m fine,” Louis lies, tears filling up his eyes.

“You’re lying,” Harry says, springing up and settling into the space next to Louis, careful not to disturb his careful set up. Harry reaches over and holds Louis’ hand. “Lou, you can talk to me! Tell me what’s happened, please?”

“He’s gone!” The dam breaks and Louis gives up. “He’s left, moved out! I’m like this, big as a fucking house ready to bloody burst and he’s left me!”

“Shit, Lou, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re probably dead chuffed,” Louis scoffs, and it comes out more bitterly than he had meant for. Harry winces, his tired eyes look pale and affected. “What? You did  _ not _ like Michael – famously!” 

“That doesn’t mean I’m happy that he broke your heart, Lou.”

“He didn’t…” Louis trails off, because yeah, maybe this feeling is his heart breaking. One can’t function without a heart, and Louis certainly isn’t functioning properly right now. 

“You’re allowed to be angry, Lou. You’re allowed to be heartbroken.”

“Harry!” Louis tries desperately. Harry’s words are hurting. “Stop it, please! You don’t get it, please stop!”

“What don’t I get, Lou? Explain it for me, because from where I’m sitting it looks like he knocked you up, alienated you from your friends and then buggered off when things weren’t going his way!”

“Hey!” Louis yelps. “You’ve got literally no right to say that, Harry! That isn’t true!”

“It is in my eyes.” Harry replies. His voice isn’t raised now. 

“Well, you’re wrong.” Louis says petulantly. “Why are you making this about you when it’s clearly about me and my baby?”

Harry gets up, tugging anxiously at the neck of his Billabong t-shirt. “He’s got into your head, Lou! He’s warped your perspective of everything!”

Louis stays sitting for obvious reasons. “Harry, do you realise how mental you sound right now?”

Harry turns back to face Louis, his face incredulous and tired. “I’m not the mental one, Louis, it’s him! We were best friends, what the hell happened?”

“Why couldn’t you just be happy for me, normally and like a normal person? Why did you have to push it too far, why did you push Michael away from me?”

Harry laughs in disbelief, shaking his head. “How are you saying these things right now, Louis? Do you hear yourself?”

“Yeah, I can hear myself, and I think I’m talking the truth! My child deserves a proper family, with two parents who love him! And now you’ve gone and ruined that all for me, so thank you! Thanks  _ very _ much, Harry!”

“I’m not the one who’s left you, Louis! That’s Michael, the so-called ‘love of your life’, who couldn’t even be bothered to show when you were in hospital  _ bleeding _ ! Who couldn’t even be bothered to go shopping for baby things with you! Who  _ freaked out _ at the perfectly innocent idea of a baby shower! When all I was doing was trying to do something nice for you, cheer you up! What more can I do, Louis, to make you see it?”

“I think you’ve done enough, Harry!” Louis says, and the way Harry backs down tells Louis that he’s giving up. An ugly lump forms in Louis’ throat and getting the words out from around it is difficult and it hurts. “I need to be with Michael, we’re supposed to be a family! I don’t need anyone else but him and my lad.”

Harry steps backwards, nodding his head slowly. He holds up two hands, indicating the space between them now. “Fine. Yeah, okay. Fine.”

Louis watches Harry head for the door, his back turned on him and his shoulders slumped. All of his pride and all of his energy just… gone. Louis’ dying to say something, to call out for his best friend and he doesn’t know what’s stopping him. Maybe it’s that lump in his throat which is threatening to jump right up into his mouth and choke him. Maybe it’s the broken mess of a heart left inside his chest that’s haemorrhaging blood and beating too fast and too erratically.

Harry turns, barely lifting his head. “Good luck with everything, Lou.”

Then he’s gone.

Louis is violently sick in the kitchen sink because that’s the closest thing he can get to. His belly is tight and rock hard across the broadest part, and familiar niggling aches shoot up and down his spine as he hangs his head over the sink dry heaving and crying and gasping for air and screaming out in frustration and desperation.

He manages to make it back over to the sofa where he collapses down onto it, desperate for some respite. The room stinks and his mouth is rank, but most pressing of all is how tight and rigid his entire belly feels. Panic builds quickly inside Louis as he spirals further and further into the unknown.

He knows he has to call someone, but who? Mum or Michael? Mum or Michael? Louis tries to think clearly and rationally. He’s completely dry down below, he’s sure that this isn’t a repeat of what happened before, but he doesn’t know what labour is like and this could well be it.

He takes a deep breath and heaves himself up off the sofa again, staggering over to the house phone. He punches in the number and waits. 

“Hello?”

Louis shakily lets go of his breath that he didn’t realising he was holding. “Mum, I think I need help.”

  
  
  


Louis is sick of this bloody hospital already, but Jay had insisted they come, just in case. It’s a lot less stressful and rushed this time around though, and after sitting in the waiting area for longer than he is actually  _ with _ the doctor, Louis is sent home again with a diagnosis of practice contractions and instructions of bed rest and fluid intake. 

“You’re not going home,” Jay says firmly once they’re back in the car. Louis looks up from where he’d been fiddling with his hospital bracelet. “You’re coming back with me, Louis. Heaven only knows what could happen to you while you’re there on  your own!”

It’s clear that her offer is  _ not _ up for negotiation, so Louis doesn’t argue. They drive back to the flat so he can get some spare clothes and toiletries. Although he’s only been gone a few hours it feels cold and clinical inside; worse even than the hospital bay he’s just been sitting in. He moves as quickly as he can, throwing baggy t-shirts, shorts and joggers into his Adidas backpack. Once he’s packed some clothes he flounders for a moment, wondering what else he might need. Toothbrush, shower gel, razor and shaving cream. He studies his shelves in the bedroom but nothing jumps out at him. Nothing feels interesting or compelling at the moment.

Half-heartedly, Louis grabs his baby book and his Manchester United Pride of Europe book, shoves them in his bag and then hobbles to the door. He grabs his keys and hurries out; this feels final and he can’t bear to look back.

When he’s safely back in his mum’s car and battled with the seatbelt around his huge middle, he finally feels like he can breathe again. He doesn’t dare look at the dreary block of flats retreating in the wing mirror as they drive off. 

*

The girls are home when Louis and Jay arrive back, their dad having picked them up. There is a very awkward brief encounter between Louis and his estranged stepdad as he and his mum arrive and Mark leaves.

“Not long left now, lad.” Mark laughs oddly, pointing to Louis’ very obvious belly. “About ready to pop it out, aren’t ya?”

Louis scowls barely lifting his head. “Yes, I am preparing to give birth any day now, Mark. Thanks for noticing.”

His mum eyes him sharply but doesn’t say a word. Immediately Louis feels guilty.

“Johannah, you let me know when the littlun’s here and I’ll pop in.”

Jay nods in agreement, obviously trying to placate both her ex-husband and her overly emotional son. Louis heads straight for the living room and to his sisters.

“What’re you doing here?” Lottie asks, charming as ever.

“I’m staying here for a bit,” Louis says. He’s sure they know about Michael, but he’s not going to bring it up until one of them does. 

“Will you have the baby here?” Phoebe asks, a broad grin spreading q uickly across her face.

Louis shrugs and tries a reassuring smile. “I don’t know, it depends when he wants to be born. Could be this week, Phee, could be next week, or even the week after!”

Phoebe’s grin fades. “Oh, boring!”

Louis shakes his head and finds somewhere to sit down amongst all the teens and pre-teens. He closes his eyes again, feeling bone tired although he hasn’t done much today. The doctor that had seen to him had examined his bump, checked him internally (that will never not be mortifying) and monitored five minutes or so of baby’s heart rate before explaining the diagnosis of ‘practice’ contractions and how baby is preparing to be born but due to the anatomy of the male body they have to shift up and out instead of down. This causes numbness and pressure over the bump, which describes all of Louis’ symptoms to a T - he also mentioned a growth spurt in the final few weeks, which Louis is  _ really _ looking forward to.

The evening is fairly relaxed and nobody goes out of their way to make Louis feel like he’s a guest, which is nice. Whilst Jay makes the tea she sends Lottie and Fizzy upstairs to make the bed in the spare room. Louis stays put, wanting to restrict his stair climbing activities as much as possible.

“Thanks, loves.” The girls have faces like thunder when they eventually come down, and Louis could hear them arguing upstairs the entire time they were up there.

They all sit down around the table, with Louis at the head of the table nearest the door so he can get out to wee if need be. This meal is his first real food of the day, and he finds himself enjoying every last bite.

He spends the evening lounging about on the couch, the twins using his belly as a ‘desert island’ for their Barbie’s holiday. 

Louis and Jay sit down and chew the fat for a good couple of hours once all the girls are in bed. He tells her everything about his row with Harry and the things that Harry had said. Jay doesn’t pass comment on the events, preferring to remain the neutral party, but she lends Louis a listening ear, and that’s all he really wants for now. 

He feels lighter, only in the metaphorical sense, when he drags himself up the stairs to bed that night. He’s out like a light, for the first time in a long while; obviously more tired than he is uncomfortable.

  
  
  


Louis’ stay is longer than the ‘day or two’ he had first envisioned. Having five people to lean on for support, emotionally, socially, physically, it makes his life a lot easier. On the evening of his first full day his mum comes home from work with a mobile phone for him, as he’s going to need one when he’s out and about with the baby in the coming months.

Louis does his best to memorise the number, and he sends a text message to Michael letting him know that he has this number, just in case. Louis can’t pretend his pride isn’t wounded when a daily text message becomes the only form of contact between him and his baby’s father.

Louis has made it successfully to week thirty two, and it’s safe to say the doctor wasn’t wrong about the growth spurt. His bump is now almost at the stage of bursting open, Louis has decided. His skin is red raw from the stretching, which in turn has made him scratch himself half to death, and the jagged stretch marks around his bellybutton and over his hips are getting redder and more angry by the minute. 

“You’re bigger than I was, even with the twins!” Jay exclaims helpfully. When she quickly realises what she’s said she retracts. “You are absolutely radiant though, my darling!”

“Yeah, well I feel fucking awful.” He mumbles, and the three youngest girls all gasp and giggle. Jay lets him off with it. “I want the baby to keep cooking as long as possible but I want him out at the same time, I’m so conflicted.”

“My love, I don’t think there’s a pregnant person alive that hasn’t felt like that at some point. You’re definitely not alone!”

“Hmm,” Louis sighs. “That’s reassuring.”

Once the girls go off to school and his mum verifies that he’ll be okay for an hour while she does the shopping, Louis retreats to the living room and gathers all of the cushions, forming a very regal structure that will support him in all the right places. 

The telly doesn’t stay on for long. Today is the one year anniversary of the horrible attacks on the Twin Towers and Louis’ fragile emotions can’t handle it. When Jay arrives home from Asda at midday she finds Louis lying upside down on the sofa with his swollen ankles up in the air. 

She leans over him and grins before bursting out laughing. “C’mere and help us with these, there’s a good lad!”

“Mum, I’m heavily pregnant; I’m in no state to be slaving after you!”

“Oh give over!” Jay laughs as she retreats back down the hallway. “It’s just the multipack of crisps and the bog roll, I’m sure you can handle that!”

Louis groans but flips his legs slowly back over the edge and hauls himself up. Everyone’s been telling him to stay as active as he can, so he’s only slightly begrudging in his efforts. 

“How is that grandson of mine doing in there anyway?” Jay asks as they’re putting stuff in cupboards a moment later. “Is he behaving?”

Louis nods. “Yeah, although every time he moves I swear it feels like he’s gonna shove an arm or a foot right through my belly!”

Jay laughs, a four-pack of Heinz beans in her hand. “That would be something, wouldn’t it?”

Louis shudders at the thought of some dragon like creature bursting out of him like a cracked egg. “I’d rather they just get him out by conventional methods, ta.”

“How are you feeling about the idea of having surgery?”

Louis shrugs. “Not keen but I don’t have much choice do I. It’s not like they can get him out any other route.”

Jay pulls a funny face at the thought and Louis goes absolutely red as a traffic light. “Oh my God, can we change the subject please mother!”

“Of course! What d’you fancy for lunch?”

*

Louis’ mood, like a lot of other things at the moment, is a bit all over the place and he spends most of his afternoon feeling introverted and tired. He falls asleep for about ten minutes and wakes up confused and having dreamt he was still in his flat and Michael was still with him. 

Feeling disorientated and otherworldly, Louis hauls himself to his feet and pads off down the hall to the bathroom. It’s easier to sit than to stand nowadays, so he plonks himself down and tries to wee. The urge is there but it takes forever, and when he runs his hands over the front of his bump it’s tight and firm again. 

He tries to relax, he tries running the tap to coax it out, but in the end nothing happens. He gives up in a huff, pulling his boxers and joggers back up and returning to the spare room/his room to sulk. 

“Lou, that you babe? Dinner's almost ready, sweetheart!” He hears,  _ just _ as he gets comfy again. 

With a loud, aggravated sigh he shouts back, “All right, give me a minute!”

He gets no response, but supposed that with four other kids to dish up for his mum has enough on her plate. He smiles at his terrific pun, but it quickly turns sour as it pops into his head who would appreciate a good pun the most. Harry. 

Despite himself, Louis misses Harry. He wants to hate Harry for everything he’s said about Michael and the mess that he’s found himself in mere weeks before he gives birth. But he can’t stop himself from missing the boy that’s been by his side since he was three. They’ve never gone this long not talking before. 

“Louis! Tea!” Jay bellows again, and it’s a good job this place is secluded otherwise all of Doncaster would hear her.

Louis gets himself up decides to stop off at the loo again before he makes his way downstairs, just in case. He then heads down to the dining room, taking each step extra carefully. 

Tea is cottage pie and veggies and usually it’s one of Louis’ favourites but this evening he just doesn’t feel like it. He has to set his fork down after every bite and lean back in his chair with his hands pressing down on the top of his bump to try and alleviate some of the pressure. 

“Is Loulou okay, mummy?” Daisy whispers cautiously to their mum as Phoebe watches him closely. The other two only have eyes for their food. 

“Yes Daisy love, it’s just uncomfortable for him.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Uncomfortable.”

“Don’t forget sweetheart, I do know something of how you’re feeling right now.”

Louis immediately feels guilty. “I know, sorry.”

He picks up his fork and attempts another few mouthfuls. The mood is subdued around the table and he’s not sure if that’s his fault or not. He spears three carrots onto his fork and swallows them down. 

“If you’re not up it you don’t have to eat, Lou. I could warm it later and bring it up to your room if you like?”

“Ok, why does he get to eat upstairs and we don’t?” Lottie butts in furiously. 

“Because I’m the oldest, dimwit.”

“Hey!”

“Louis!”

“Sorry.” He huffs. “Can I go back upstairs, mum? I’m sorry.”

“Of course, love,” Jay sets down her cutlery with a concerned look as Louis gets to his feet. “Do you want a hand with anything?”

“Nah,” Louis says hurriedly. “Thank you. See yous in a bit.”

*

Back in the seclusion of his room, Louis manages to get comfy in bed, sitting almost bolt upright against all of the cushions and pillows he could find. Rooting around in the bedside drawer he’d found his old CD Walkman with disc 2 of 1997’s Now That’s What I Call Music 38 still inside. That goes to show how long it’s been sitting in this drawer forgotten about for. 

Louis puts the headphones on and rolls the volume knob around before pressing play.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, smiling fondly as he thinks back to ‘97. He was seventeen and going through his unfortunate curtains hairstyle. Harry was worse though: he was basically a walking, talking curly haired brunette Kurt Cobain. 

The first few tracks he skips; he didn’t like them five years ago and he doesn’t like them now. The first track he comes across that he keeps on is The Drugs Don’t Work. Louis’ in tears before Richard Ashcroft has even finished the first chorus. 

Listening back to some of the songs he used to love so much, he can see why he was so bloody miserable between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. The Verve, Oasis and Radiohead were very much his cup of tea music wise back then (Oasis is still to be honest) and he can remember his angsty teenage years very well, but listening to the lyrics now makes Louis feel sick. 

“For a minute there I lost myself,” Thom Yorke’s words over and over and eerie and haunting. With every second that elapses on the Walkman display the lump in Louis’ throat expands. 

_ I lost myself, I lost myself, I lost myself _ ; it rings in Louis’ ears even after he’s snatched the headphones away. 

Tears are streaming down his cheeks before he can stop them, his already cramped lungs are constricting and everything hurts. It all comes crashing down on him; he’s lost his best friend, he’s lost his boyfriend, his dreams of being a family are gone too. In and amongst all of that, he’s lost himself, just like Radiohead tells him he has.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door, throwing Louis completely off track. He glances around in panic; he’s wiped his eyes but he’s no doubt blotchy and snotty.

“Lou?” His mums face appears around the door. “Are you awake, love? Ah, you have a visitor, babe.” 

Louis’ stomach leaps and the first person he goes to is Harry. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, which is just as well, because stepping awkwardly around his mum and appearing in the doorway, is Michael. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Jay calls from the doorway. “Loubear, you know where I am if you need me, okay.”

Louis can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed about being called Loubear in front of Michael. He can hardly find it in himself to be bothered about anything. Michael steps forward; he looks so big and foreboding in the magnolia box room.

“You didn’t reply to my text,” Michael says. Louis frowns in confusion, forgetting that he even  _ has _ a phone. “I’ve texted you twice.”

“Sorry,” Louis says. “I think I left it downstairs earlier.”

“You’re supposed to have it with you at all times, Lou, how else am I supposed to get in touch with you?”

“Dunno, you could try moving back into our flat?”

“Louis.”

Well that’s the end of that. Louis doesn’t have the energy to argue it out. “Well, the baby is still in there, so… you have nothing to worry about today.”

Only then does Michael move to sit down. He perches on the edge of the bed, a clinical amount of distance between them. Sickness rolls through Louis. 

“Are you okay?”

Louis scowls and doesn’t look up. “No.”

“I mean with the pregnancy.”

“I know what you meant,” Louis sighs. “Yes, I’m fine, just a bit uncomfortable and off my food. Feel a bit sick.”

“Do you think the baby might be getting ready to be born?” Michael asks, but there’s no sarcasm or accusation in his tone. “You remember what they said about the baby growing up and out instead of downwards? You do look like you’ve got a lot bigger since last week.”

Louis lets go of his anger and slumps down against the pillow, his t-shirt riding up the base of his bump. “I don’t know what to expect, obviously, but I feel like… I just feel off. The whole bump is just tight and heavy. Surely there’s no more room for him to grow any bigger.”

“I don’t think he’ll get much bigger,” Michael guesses. “He won’t come out with his school uniform already on.”

They share a soft laugh; the softest exchange between them in weeks.

As his laughter fades, Louis sighs. “I’ve got a stitch. I haven’t even done anything and I’ve got a stitch, this is ridiculous.”

“C’mon, lie down,” Michael instructs, motioning for Louis to flatten himself out. Louis does as he’s told, getting comfy on his right side with the messy duvet gathered between his knees and one of his pillows under the bump.

Michael props himself up behind Louis, kneading some of the pressure and tension out of his sore muscles. Louis instantly relaxes, but then it hits him that he can’t remember what it feels like to have another body pressed up against him as he sleeps – aside from the one growing inside him, of course. 

“I miss this,” He whispers, mostly to himself. He’s not expecting an answer, and he doesn’t get one. Michael continues to massage his back, never faltering, down the even more pronounced than usual curvature of his spine, his tired shoulder blades and lumpy bumpy hips.

The next thing Louis knows its two thirty six in the morning and Michael is gone.

*

Louis goes into labour late in the afternoon of Friday the thirteenth, which he thinks is just bloody typical. Since waking up that morning absolutely desperate for the loo, Louis had known something was amiss. 

He makes it through most of the day, having to stop and curl up intermittently when the tightenings across his tummy become too much. When a mum-recommenced bath does nothing to ease them, Jay takes Louis’ hand with a deep set frown on her face and softly informs him that she thinks it might be the beginning of his labour.

Louis is thrown into a state of panic. He’s been silently terrified at the prospect of his waters breaking ever since the doctor had told him basically that once the waters go the only way the amniotic fluid can get out is via his bum hole. Well, she didn’t use that  _ exact _ word, but the general idea was the same and there was certainly no way to sugar-coat it. 

Louis hopes that these are just Braxton Hicks, but by about quarter to five that evening, he’s beginning to think that his mum might just be right. 

  
  
  


Louis’ son comes into the world at three minutes past two in the morning of Saturday the fourteenth of September 2002, exactly three weeks before his due date. He weighs a teeny tiny four pounds and one ounce, and Louis gets a fleeting glimpse of him for mere moments before they rush him off to special care, explaining things that Louis’ emotions just can’t handle. 

Everything is unclear, all Louis knows is that he’s screaming and wailing and absolutely inconsolable. The doctors are still delivering the placenta and are yet to stitch him back up, so he’s going nowhere just yet but all Louis can think about is his poor, beautiful, tiny baby boy laying there in an incubator without his parents, pulled from the safe warmth of inside the womb to this cold, scary world.

“Michael, what’s happening? I need to see my baby, he  _ needs _ me!”

Michael, with tears in his eyes, grabs Louis’ hands in his and holds them tightly. “I know, love. I know. It’ll be okay, I promise you. He’ll be just fine, I promise love.”

Louis clings to Michael for dear life, terrified that he’s making promises he won’t be able to keep.

It seems like hours before the paediatrician shows up at Louis’ bedside. Michael leaps to his feet at the arrival of the doctor, fussing and fretting while Louis just lays there absolutely paralysed with fear. Even the doctor’s kind, happy expression isn’t enough to calm him.

“Hello Louis, hello Michael, let me start by introducing myself; I’m Dr Elashry and I’m one of the paediatric registrars here. I do have an update on your lad. He’s doing well, that’s the main thing.”

Louis’ joy and relief gushes out of him uncontrollably at the news. The doctor allows Louis to weep openly until some of the heavy tension in his chest dissipates. With a kind smile the doctor presses on. 

“I’d say he’ll probably be staying with us for about a week or so. He’s come early and he’s very small. He’s currently intubated which means we’re just giving him a little helping hand with his breathing. That isn’t unusual for premature babies, although I know it sounds scary.”

“How long will he need that for?”

The doctor sighs. “It’s hard to tell at this stage. A chest X-ray will be the next step, then possibly some steroids, just to help strengthen the lungs. To put it in very basic terms, it is our job now to provide for baby what he would’ve experienced in the last few weeks of gestation.”

“And can we see him?”

“Of course,” Dr Elashry smiles. “I’m going to speak to my obstetric colleagues to assess you post-delivery, Louis, and as soon as they’re happy you’ll be able to head down and see your boy.”

A steady stream of doctors and midwives come in and out of Louis’ room over the course of the next half an hour or so. They have medicine that Louis gladly accepts, and finally at just before four AM someone turns up at the door with the news that Louis and Michael can go and see their boy. 

Louis is wheeled down there by one of the porters, Michael walking alongside him. Louis doesn’t dare move once he’s in the chair for fear of the very real possibility that he’ll burst open at the seams. It’s peacefully quiet on the special care baby unit; the turn of his wheels the only sound until they get closer and the squeak is accompanied by the steady beeping of the machines keeping these tiny little humans alive.

Their boy lies in his incubator, looking lost against the expanse of soft white sheets. The bluish spread of his veins is visible through his paper thin red skin. He’s wearing a knitted hat so Louis can’t see what colour his hair is, if he even has any yet. He’s bare apart from his nappy, and has wires and pads stuck all over his tiny little chest. His hands and feet seem big compared to the rest of him, but of course they’re tiny really. He jerks in his sleep and his fingers splay out.

“He’s saying hello to his daddies,” A young nurse says softly as she passes by. Her wide smile helps to reassure Louis some.

Louis looks up at Michael who is standing stock still just staring at their baby. Michael catches him staring and they exchange awkward smiles. Louis is reminded then that they’re not in a good place right now.

“Are you happy?” Louis asks in a broken whisper.

Michael looks down at their little boy and then back at Louis. He nods sadly. “Wish he wasn’t in there, though.”

Louis just nods sagely, and Michael doesn’t reignite the conversation. They stay by their son’s side until another nurse comes along and ‘advises’ Louis that he should be getting some rest, and that they will ‘contact them if anything changes’.

Louis accepts this because just a few small steps have left him in agony, but that doesn’t mean he wants to leave his baby behind. He hasn’t even held him yet. Louis presses his clammy fingertips to the glass and whispers a silent goodbye, promising he’ll be back soon, and that he loves him.

*

It hits Louis in waves; every hour or so it dawns on him that he’s a dad now. He has a son. He’s given birth and his son is here in the world now. The first night in the hospital is a strange one; all around him he can hear new parents with their screaming infants, but his is along the corridor being cared for around the clock by nurses. 

Louis certainly wasn’t prepared for the pain of a Caesarean incision. Using his stomach muscles even just to keep himself sat upright is hard work. The oral morphine isn’t doing much, and Louis is dreading having to cough, or worse still,  _ sneeze _ \- they’ve given him an entire leaflet just on how to sneeze, so it  _ must _ be bad.

Sleep is hard to come by and when he does nod off, it’s fitful and for ten minutes at a time. Every time someone passes by his door Louis’ eyes shoot open, convinced it’s someone with bad news. Inside of an airport there is no concept of time, and Louis is finding that the same can be said for hospital rooms. He finally drifts off to sleep as the sun is coming up, and when he wakes up again it’s at eleven AM to be told that he has visitors waiting in the corridor.

Louis smirks at the nurses bewildered expression as one by one his sisters traipse in, rounded up at the back by mum. Seconds later Louis is in tears as he hauls himself up the bed as much as he can to get to his mum; he props himself up on his elbow and uses his other arm to reach out for her. 

“I’m so proud of you, my angel; I love you so, so much.”

“Love you too, mum.” Louis sobs into her shoulder, terrified to let go.

“Are we gonna get to see the baby?”

“You still have a  _ big _ belly, Lou!”

“What is his name?”

Louis laughs (gently) as the girls bombard him with questions, but he notices Lottie in the corner staying quiet. 

He frowns, reaching out his hand and beckoning her forward. “Y’alright kiddo?”

Lottie takes a deep breath and nods bravely. 

“You sure?” Louis asks softly. “What’s on your mind, bug eyes?” 

Lottie giggles and rolls said eyes. “Nothing, I’m just…”

“You can tell me, Lotts.” Louis prompts her. 

In a tiny voice, Lottie finally puts her fears into words. “Will your baby be okay, Loulou?” Louis’ heart breaks as Lottie’s mouth twists up into a nervous knot. “I’m really scared.”

“Sweetheart, don’t be scared,” Louis wraps his free arm around Lottie’s body. It’s awkward and at completely the wrong angle for his new battle wound, but making sure his biggest little sister is okay is more important to Louis than his own comfort. “The doctors are making him better every minute. He’s not so little, I promise you. They told me he’s doing well. Once they tell me it’s okay, you guys can all come and see him with me, I promise.”

The twins take the armchair in the corner while everyone else stands around, and the poor nurse that comes to check Louis’ obs arrives looking very flustered and overwhelmed with all the visitors but thankfully she doesn’t say anything, despite the very clear sign that says ‘2 visitors per bed’. 

With an assortment of plastic chairs drafted in from across the ward, Louis’ five guests are eventually all seated. There is a lot of frenetic, almost nervous chatter until they all collectively calm down. Louis’ eyes feel heavy and the stronger pain killers they’d given him for his incision are starting to take their toll. He’s vaguely aware of his mum quietly telling the girls that they should go and let him get some sleep, but then a nurse comes bustling in, and Louis’ eyes dart open again. 

“Louis, I was wondering if you’d like to bring your guests here down to meet the little guy? We’ve cleared it with special care that you can take them all down and then go in two at a time, if you’re feeling up to it?”

Louis would feel immensely guilty if he didn’t let the girls see the baby, so he agrees. They all crowd into the corner of his room, watching with round, nervous eyes as Jay helps him into his wheelchair. Once he’s seated, he paints on his game face and the six of them plus a nurse head down to special care.

The nurse sits with the girls telling them funny stories and letting the twins fiddle with her stethoscope while Louis and his mum go in first. There’s no room for his wheelchair, not without a lot of adjusting, so he walks. He sticks close by her side, their arms linked together, and he shuffles along carefully, leading her proudly all the way to the end of the row where little Baby Boy Tomlinson is.

“Oh sweetheart, look at him, oh he’s adorable!” Jay squeals softly, leaning in to get a first glimpse at her grandson. “Hello my little darling, it’s nanny. I promise to always love you.”

Baby wriggles around on his back at the sound of her voice, turning in their direction. It’s just a small movement, a coincidence at most, but it means the world to Louis.

“I mean it, Loubear. And I’m so proud of you for being so strong, love. Michael doesn’t… well; let’s not ruin it by talking about all that.”

Louis nods gratefully. “Thanks mum.”

After Jay has a few minutes with them, Jay is swapped out for Fizzy and Phoebe, and then Lottie and Daisy. Louis puts his arm around Lottie as she tentatively steps up to peer in at her baby nephew. 

“See, he’s getting big and strong every minute of the day. He’ll be okay, Lotts.”

“He’s beautiful,” Daisy sighs in awe, looking up at Louis with a big gappy smile on her face. “Congratulations, Loulou.”

Louis laughs softly. “Thanks darling. He’s quite special, isn’t he?”

“When do we get to cuddle him?” Lottie asks quietly.

“Get in the queue, love! I haven’t even had a cuddle yet!” He jokes gently, and Lottie’s already big eyes go wider. “As soon as I’ve had my cuddle, you’ll be next in line, I promise.”

*

Once Louis’ visitors have gone and he’s been forced to shovel in the awful hospital food, they come round with more medication and take his vital signs too. The nurse chatters away as he’s working, but Louis is barely compos mentis.

The last thing to cross his mind as he drifts into a heavy sleep is Michael.

  
  
  


Louis is discharged from hospital after three days. He’s feeling much better, able to move around and go from standing to sitting and sitting to standing without aid, even if an unprecedented coughing fit in the middle of night two made him feel like he was about to die.

Michael is there on Monday to pick Louis up, and they spend an hour with their son before Michael takes Louis home. After that, Louis only sees Michael a handful of times. He gets the bus, painstakingly, up to the hospital every morning and spends most of his day in special care. Michael and his parents come up one day, and he dutifully hugs them both, accepting their congratulations and thanking them. But then they go, and Michael goes, and Louis looks down at his little lad and the tears well up in his eyes at how sorry he is for Michael’s behaviours. 

Spending so much time just sitting in the peaceful quietness of the ward gives Louis plenty of time to think, and one evening, about seven PM, just as its getting dark, two nurses stop by and ask him if he’d like to hold him for the first time. 

Louis removes his t-shirt on the nurse’s recommendation and they wrap one of the cellular blankets around his shoulders for him and pop a pillow around his swollen tummy. He watches with his breath held as they lift his boy’s tiny body up and out of his incubator. The nurse holds him close to her body, careful but confidently. All of his wires come along with him, tucked away neatly under his blanket. Louis reaches out as they pass him over, his body reacting fiercely as he holds his son for the first time.

Louis’ heart hammers wildly in his chest against where the tiny brand new human lays. “Joshua,” Louis whispers softly against baby’s cheek. “Is that all right? Are you my little Joshua Michael?”

The baby’s face scrunches up and then his features relax again, and if you caught it from the right angle it would look like a smile. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Louis very carefully detaches on arm from Joshua’s tangle of wires to wipe at his eyes.

When Louis comes back the next day, Joshua’s incubator is monogrammed with his name, Louis and Michael’s names and his date of birth. Louis gets to hold Joshua again today, and even change his nappy. He’s still being fed through a tube, but is breathing mostly all by himself now. His mum pops up for an hour in the middle of the day too, and Big Jay gets to cuddle Little Jay.

“He’s doing superbly,” The doctor updates Louis later on when it’s just him again. “As you know, we’ve been trialling him with slowly increasing periods of time off oxygen, and largely he’s been doing well. We weighed him this morning, and he’s slowly gaining back the decrease in weight after birth, which is completely normal and he’s on the right track.”

“When will I be able to take him home?”

The doctor smiles politely. “That was my next point. His oxygen and his feeding are obviously the main factors in his recovery. There isn’t anything to indicate any damage to any of his organs, and his lungs are clearly responding well to the steroids commenced on day two of life. We’ll be continuing to wean him off oxygen in the coming days, and would expect to have rid of the feeding tube in the next week or so.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know.”

Louis is happy, but he can’t help but think back to when they told him it’d only be a week. That is looking less and less likely now. 

*

So, time goes by and the only good thing is Louis continues to get better. Sleeping and dressing and getting up and down off the sofa continue getting easier, and within a fortnight he’s fighting fit again apart from some tenderness. Michael’s attendance at the hospital is sporadic at best; half an hour here, half an hour there but Joshua keeps on getting better, just like Louis had promised Lottie he would. He loses his feeding tube first, and then spends an entire day completely without oxygen. Then, he does it again the following day. And so, on Monday the thirtieth of September at seventeen days of age, Joshua Michael comes home .

Louis scuttles about the ward, gathering all of the belongings that they’d accumulated under Joshua’s cot. He is still teeny tiny, but he’s free of wires now. His eyes open wide and he looks around, taking everything in and jutting out his little bottom lip as if he’s going to scream, but then he just doesn’t. He really is the happiest, most content little thing Louis has ever seen. 

Louis roots through their bag of stuff looking for an outfit to bring Joshua home in, and the first thing he pulls out is the soft corduroy dungarees and t-shirt that Harry had bought all those months ago. It takes Louis by surprise, a familiar yet forgotten feeling of regret and sadness and hurt.

He wonders what Harry is doing, if he’s heard through the grapevine about Joshua being born. He hasn’t shown up spontaneously like he might’ve done if this was a blockbuster film, and to be honest Louis isn’t sure if he would even have wanted that.

Joshua and his needs come first now; repairing his relationship with Michael outweighs the need to make up with Harry. Now that Joshua is here, he and Michael can get back on track and have a proper crack at being a family, and in time Harry will get over his strop and emerge from presumably his mum’s house ready to be friends again and it’ll all be fine.

Yes.

Louis will keep telling himself that. 


	2. 2005

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jay having cancer is alluded to in this chapter, though not heavily. There is no character death.

“I  love you!”

Nothing.

“Joshy! I _love_ you!”

Nothing but a slobbery smile and a small giggle.

“Joshy love, nanny  _ loves _ you!”

At that, the little boy’s face light up and his sticky, chubby little hands come together, clapping frantically. “Yuv you nana!”

“Atta boy!” Jay exclaims happily, thumping Louis a little vigorously on his arm. Thank Louis rubs his arm with an exaggerated frown as Jay heaves herself up off the sofa and scoops little Joshua into her arms. 

Louis may be playing it up a bit, but it really is the best thing in the world to watch his mum and his son together. He came so close to losing both. He shudders at that thought and pushes it away aggressively. He’s not allowing the memories to consume him anymore, he’s  _ not _ .

Joshua sits on his nanny’s knee, clapping along as they sing pat-a-cake and row, row, row your boat. Louis does his best to tidy up the flat a bit; that is, after all why his mum is here, to give him a bit of respite so he can get stuff done.

He gets Joshua’s toys sorted into some semblance of order, though he knows they’ll all be pulled out again by the end of the day. This morning’s dishes are soaking in water, which will have to do, and the beds are made but that’s about it. Still, it’s better than it was. 

He’s finished by the time Joshua goes down for his nap.

“So…” Jay begins, a curious twinkle in her eye. Louis has finally got Joshua settled and now they’re settling down o n the sofa with a well-earned cuppa. “A little birdie tells me that Harry is back.”

Louis’ tummy tightens in response to the news. “Oh?” He asks, trying to keep cool. “That’s nice.”

“Lou,” Jay says softly. “You two used to be so close. What happened?”

Louis sighs. He’s managed to successfully avoid this topic until now. “Nothing happened, okay? He just… we drifted apart.”

Jay looks sceptical, and keeps pushing it. “After a lifetime of friendship, that sounds unbelievable.”

“It’s been years now mum, loads has happened in that time and what Harry does isn’t my problem now.”

“Okay,” Jay nods, mollifying him to keep the peace. She smiles softly, and Louis is grateful she doesn’t ask any more questions, but he can’t help but feel so obvious for the rest of the afternoon, like he has something to hide. 

He is glad when Joshua’s irritable grizzling cuts in over the baby monitor some ninety minutes later.

*

Louis takes the rest of the day, once his mum has gone home, to try and process everything. He really doesn’t know what to do with this news now – or, to be more accurate, he doesn’t know what to do with the way this news has made him feel. 

He does his best to push it an unused corner of his brain during the day, when he luckily has Joshua to distract him. After nap time Joshua is refreshed and ready to play again, and as Louis doesn’t have a garden that either means trashing the flat again or heading out to the park. 

Going out seems the easier option. So, he wraps Joshua up in a vest, t-shirt, hoodie and coat, gloves, hat  _ and _ wellies and they set off for the park. 

The ground is covered in a crunchy layer of frost and the January winds feel nippier than usual, and ‘usual’ is like a thousand tiny ice picks stabbing at you, so that’s saying something. 

Still, Joshua absolutely loves the park and the fresh air will certainly tire him out for bed tonight, so Louis shoves his gloved hands down into his pockets and puts up with it. Plus, he’s very unlikely to run into Harry here. He’s had some doubts on the walk here, but alas he hadn’t run into his ghost. He hadn’t run into anyone actually; they’re all indoors in the warm with more sense than Louis. 

“Gada push?” Joshua stumbles over his words  _ and _ his feet in his haste to get to the swings. He goes, naturally, straight for the big kids swing, and Louis makes a game out of scooping him up and into the baby swing. 

Joshua squeals on the way up and shrieks with joy in the way back down, and that continues on a loop until Louis’ arms are tired and he suggests swapping to something else. Joshua is not pleased at being forcibly removed from the swing, but when Louis demonstrates to him how fun the slide is, he forgets his plight. 

“Daddy’s surprised his big bum can still fit down the slide, yes he is!” Louis coos to Joshua, and the little boy giggles loudly. 

There is a climbing frame that Joshua makes it half way up before Louis realises. “And where do you think you’re going, little man?” He asks shrilly as he swiftly pulls him down. 

“Climb! Climb!”

“No, too high mate. Let’s stay a bit closer to earth, yeah?”

“Earth!” Joshua parrots, charging off again the second Louis puts him down. 

They make it another twenty five minutes before Louis’ sufficiently frozen through. “Come on, mate, home time now!”

“No home! Park!” Joshua screams, absolutely devastated as Louis carries him away from the park. He kicks his little legs and bends like a contortionist trying to get out of Louis’ arms, but Louis is very well read in toddler escape tactics by now. Eventually, once they’re a few minutes from home, Joshua calms down and Louis puts him down. They walk along hand in hand, Louis pointing out all of the sights around them as they go. Joshua babbles along unintelligibly all the way home.

The rest of Louis’ day is taken up with play time, tea time, bath time and finally bed time. He’s shattered by the time he sets Joshua down at quarter to seven. He lets Harry dance across his subconscious for a moment or two, then pushes it away. He pulls out his phone reluctantly and thumbs through the menu to get to his messages. He opens the one at the top.

**Michael: ** _ I want to see Joshua this weekend. I’ll pick him up at 10 on Saturday. _

He hates being so readily available to Michael. The distance that he’d worked so hard to place between them comes crashing down every time he drops on in pretending to be interested in Louis and/or their son.

It’s Wednesday now, the nineteenth of January, meaning that by Saturday – if he shows up – it will be the first time Michael has spent time with Joshua since the day before Christmas Eve. Louis decides not to mention the excursion to Joshua because plans could likely change between now and then. 

Thursday is a very wet and rainy day so they spend most of it cooped up inside. Louis is going stir crazy by the end of the day, with a very miserable and bored Joshua refusing to eat his dinner.

“C’mon mate, it’s yummy! Daddy spent ages cooking this for you!” It’s not technically a lie, he had spent time stood at the oven cooking the fish fingers, peas and mashed potato, but it was hardly a challenge. 

So far, Joshua has managed about two spoonfuls of mash and half a dozen peas. He won’t even entertain the idea of eating his fish fingers. “Yog!” He demands, squeezing his mouth closed and craning his neck to avoid the spoonful of mash and peas.

“No, you can’t have a yoghurt until you’ve eaten some more tea!” Joshua bursts into tears at that, and it’s almost impossible to get him back on track. “Look, let’s just have one fish finger and two mouthfuls of mash, okay?”

Louis keeps persevering, doing his best to keep his cool as Joshua continues to flatly refuse to eat.

“Okay, just two spoonfuls of mash then?” Louis holds up two fingers. “One-two, that’s how old you are!”

Joshua looks at him sceptically, and Louis sees his opportunity while his son is distracted and pops the spoonful of mash into his mouth. He waits to see if it’s going to end up spat right back out, but miraculously Joshua swallows the potato product.

“Yay! Well done, mate!” Louis cheers encouragingly, earning himself a big smile that truly melts his heart. It is difficult to stay mad at this boy. “One more and then you can have a yoghurt, okay?”

Joshua nods exaggeratedly, his head rolling about wildly on his neck, and then he opens up for a large spoonful of mash laced with a couple of peas and a discreet end of one fish finger. Louis thinks he might be pushing his luck, but Joshua finishes off the mouthful without issue.

Louis sighs with a tired smile and hauls himself to his feet, taking the half eaten meal back to the kitchen and pulling open the fridge door. He snaps off one of Joshua’s Petit Filous’ and returns with a clean bib, wet wipes and a spoon. Joshua demolishes the yoghurt, of course, so Louis breaks a share size Milky Bar into chunks for him to have as a reward. 

By  Friday, Michael still hasn’t got in touch to cancel but that doesn’t keep Louis from expecting it at any moment. They’re back at the park again, and the weather isn’t quite as horrendous as it was yesterday, but it’s still foggy and cold. Joshua, of course, is unbothered by this. 

That evening, once Joshua is asleep, Louis picks up the house phone and dials Michael’s number. It seems to ring endlessly, and Louis is half-convinced that he’s out and not going to pick up, when eventually he does.

“Hi, it’s me. Louis.” A beat of silence. “Hi.” “Just checking you’re still showing up tomorrow?” There is some rustling and Michael sighs heavily. “Yeah, I haven’t rung you to cancel yet have I?” Louis rolls his eyes. “I was just checking.” “Okay, well yes. I’ll be there at ten like I said.”

*

Michael arrives at ten past ten, and every second of those ten minutes feel like hours. Joshua had been very excited that morning when Louis had finally decided it was safe to tell him who was coming today, and he’d paraded around the living room in his nappy and a t-shirt shouting ‘pop coming!’ over and over. 

Michael’s presence in his flat riles Louis up, and he can still smell and sense him long after Michael and Joshua go off for the day. Louis had been reluctant to see Joshua go, desperate to keep tight hold of him for one more second, but he’d been struggling to get out of Louis’ arms, reaching out desperately for Michael and Louis had to say goodbye.

Louis sits on the sofa, unmoving, for endless minutes after Joshua has gone. He’s not sure he’s even blinking. His breathing is so shallow it’s almost non-existent, and he has to remind himself to keep taking breaths in and out.

The sound of the house phone ringing makes Louis jump out of his skin. He dashes across the room on impulse then stands at the shrieking phone eyeing it cautiously. He reasons that it’s either his mum ringing for a chat, or Michael saying that he’s bringing Joshua home early. 

“Hello?”

Louis is not expecting the bright voice on the other end. “Hiya, it’s Liam! Payne. From group?”

Louis has to smile at his new friend’s formal introduction every time they talk, despite the fact it’s going on nine months now since they met. “Hey, Li! How’s things?”

“Good yeah,” Liam says unconvincingly with a sigh.

“Liam,” Louis warns sharply. “That was thoroughly unconvincing. What’s up, mate?”

Liam does a bit more sighing and a bit more dancing around the point before Louis finally gets him to open up. “Cheryl’s gone back to work today, just doing a few weekend shifts to begin with, but it’s just me and the lad now and I feel a bit… overwhelmed.”

“Ahh,” Louis nods understandingly. “That’s all right, mate. It is overwhelming. What time’s she back?”

“Not ‘til six,” Liam says quietly. It’s not even half ten yet. “What am I supposed to do with him, he keeps looking at me with these big eyes like ‘what have you done with my mummy?’ it’s heartbreaking, it really is.”

Louis smiles sympathetically. Liam’s son Bear – strange name but who is Louis to judge? – is just over a year old and a very smiley, happy little boy with a head of dark blonde curls. He’s a very sensitive soul, Bear and Joshua together is quite comical; Joshua charges about without a care in the world while Bear pads about with a serious, solemn look on his face and the softest little whimper Louis’ ever heard.

“I mean, Joshua is away for the day with Michael but you guys can come over if you like, or I can come to you if it’s easier?”

Liam accepts the latter, which doesn’t surprise Louis. He knows first-hand how difficult it is getting a baby and all their stuff together to leave the house. So, Louis shoves his feet into his Etnies, finds his coat and produces 90 pence for the bus fare. 

This is the first time he’s actually going inside Liam’s house, up until now he’s only made it as far as the end of the garden path. It’s nice; Louis can tell this place has had the touch of a woman because everything just makes sense. Everything has its place and everything follows a theme; from the wallpaper in the hallway to the sofa cushions and the blind in the kitchen, it’s all colour coordinated. Overall, Louis likes it. It feels like a proper family home. 

Louis’ own flat is perfectly adequate at the moment; it’s big enough for the two of them and Joshua’s bedroom is filled to the brim with toys, but it’s not meant to be forever. One day, Louis will be able to provide a home for Joshua with space to run about outside without worrying about dodgy neighbours or oncoming cars.

Turns out Liam wasn’t exaggerating when he said Bear was one in one of his moods. The little boy is sitting glumly in the middle of the carpet with his teddy tightly in his clutches, his mouth downturned like he’s about to burst into tears at any moment. When he notices Louis he perks up for a moment, obviously hoping it’s his mummy home, but when he realises this unfamiliar face is not his mummy, he looks back down at the floor.

“See what I mean?” Liam asks when he comes back in with two cups of tea and a beaker of juice wedged under his arm. He jerks his head towards Bear, who hasn’t moved. “I don’t know what to do; he’s looking at me with those big eyes like I’ve absolutely betrayed him.”

“What does Cheryl normally do with him?” Louis asks, accepting the tea and perching on the edge of the sofa. “Perhaps a bit of normality will get him out of his shell?”

“Well he’s got loads of toys, and I know he likes those shows on CBeebies, y’know that channel for kids?”

Louis smiles. “Yes, Liam. I’ve heard of it, funnily enough.” Joshua can’t get enough of the bloody thing ever since they switched to Freeview telly. “Well c’mon, let’s put that on and see if that cheers him up a bit? Is he allowed to snack on something, a rusk or a dry biscuit or summat?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. There’s a box of ‘em in the cupboard so it must be fine? Cheryl wouldn’t have bought them if she didn’t want him to have them would she?” Liam babbles, nodding away fervently. Louis can’t help but feel sympathetic for how out of his depth Liam is that he’s worrying about rusks.

Louis takes the remote control and attempts to switch on Liam’s telly while Liam himself dashes back into the kitchen. Bear eyes Louis cautiously and Louis fears for a moment that he’s going to burst into inconsolable tears, but thankfully he remains gloomy but doesn’t cry. 

With a Farley’s rusk in one hand and his juice in the other, Bear does seem to perk up a little bit. He sits quite placidly and watches three or four shows before he puts down his juice and shuffles to his feet. He wanders over and holds his hands up. Liam lifts Bear effortlessly onto his lap and he settles down immediately. 

“Sorry,” Liam apologises, shrugging helplessly. 

Louis waves a hand dismissively and abandons what he was saying before and tries to cheer Bear up a bit; worst case scenario, Bear bursts into tears and Liam will tell him to leave.

“Where’s the beautiful smile, huh?” He asks in a high pitched baby voice. “I know it’s in there!”

Bear looks like he’s considering it, and so Louis lays the baby babble on a bit thicker. He tickles Bear’s feet and knees, and thankfully he breaks into a giggling grin. Louis catches Liam’s eye as he laughs along with Bear and Liam looks so relieved he could cry.

“Osh?” Bear murmurs quietly, two or three times before Louis realises what he’s saying.

“Joshy’s with his papa today,” Louis says in his best bright, sing-song voice. “You’ll see him soon at toddler group, yeah?”

“Osh,” Bear says again, clapping his hands a few times. It’s the most animated Louis has seen him today. “J-j-j?” 

Bear is after his juice again, which he’d left behind on the carpet. Liam sets him down and Bear looks back up at him with a look of disgust but he stumbles across the room for his beaker anyway. 

“See?” Louis says, lightly smacking Liam’s leg to get his attention. “You’re doing fine, Li.”

“It’s only lunchtime, Lou,” Liam points out. “Still got six more hours.”

“Shall we take him to the park or something?” Louis suggests. “It’s cold but he’ll be all right with his coat and gloves.”

Liam agrees, and the next three hours or so are filled up with Bear’s lunch, nap and then a quick trip to the little play park on the estate Liam lives on. As he watches Liam slowly become more and more comfortable with his son and Bear smiling and giggling and having genuine good fun, Louis can’t help but think about Michael and their failed attempt at happily ever after. Naturally, he can’t think about Michael without those thoughts morphing into thoughts about Harry. 

The knowledge that Harry is back in Doncaster has been festering in his brain for three days now, but he hasn’t let it consume him too much, though it’s been weighing heaviest on his mind in the evenings when it’s quiet and his thoughts become louder.

When he gets back to the flat, the first thing he sees is his mobile phone on the side. He hadn’t even realised he’d forgotten it. He unlocks the screen and sees he has several missed calls and messages from Michael. The top one, the most recent one, simply reads ‘Look at your phone Louis!’. As he’s flicking back and forth between messages the thing begins to light up and vibrate in his hand. 

“Hello?” He answers quickly. Michael is down his throat in seconds. “I know, I’m sorry! I’m still not used to remembering to take it out with me!” 

Turns out, Michael was so keen to get hold of him because he wants to bring Joshua home. Obviously his quota for parenting is up for the month now. 

Louis channels all of his energy and affections into Joshua when he returns home, which makes ignoring Michael until he goes again that bit easier. 

“Hello gorgeous boy, I missed you! Have you had fun with papa?” Louis asks, holding onto Joshua for dear life and purposely not looking at Michael as he lingers by the door. Joshua nods with a fixed grin on his face. He looks a bit freaky to be honest. “Good! I’m so glad you’re home now, though! I went to see Liam and Bear!”

“Rooooar!” Joshua squeals instantly mimicking the sound a bear makes. “Joshy see Bear?”

“Yes, we’ll see him soon, I promise!” Joshua whoops and cheers at that, getting all excited in Louis’ arms. 

“I’m surprised your little best mate isn’t here,” Michael pipes up coolly, and the smile immediately drops from Louis’ face.

Louis can feel his breathing start to falter. He doesn’t know which way to go first; to ask Michael how he knows, or to feign ignorance. 

“Word travels fast, Louis,” Michael says, as if he’s reading Louis’ mind. “You know that.”

Michael’s tone makes Louis shiver, and he puts Joshua down. Louis crouches down to get on Joshua’s level and softly tells him, “Go and grab your story book, babe, and we’ll ready something, okay?”

Joshua goes racing off towards his bedroom in search of hopefully not too many books. Louis stands back up to his full height and looks over at Michael.

“Doesn’t matter, I haven’t seen him.”

“C’mon Louis, you can’t expect me to believe he’s not been here since he’s been back. Not with how close you two were before. Come to think of it, I’m not even convinced Joshua’s mine.”

Louis’ mouth drops open. “What the fuck, Michael? You know full well he's your son! How fucking dare you?”

“Nice to see you get defensive over that bit, but you don’t deny that he’s been here. You don’t deny that you’re lying to my face, just to try and cover your back.”

“He hasn’t been here,” Louis argues back, aware of Joshua singing and banging in his bedroom. It won’t be long before he returns with his wares. “And he won’t be.”

Michael laughs; it’s an awful sound. “You forget I know you, Louis. I know what you’re like and I know what he does to you. You might not even realise it ‘til he’s already wormed his way back in, but he will.”

“Don’t,” Louis swallows hard. “Don’t threaten me.”

Michael’s cold stare remains for a beat then he shakes his head with a grin. “This is not me threatening you, Louis.”

Joshua appears at the very same moment Louis is going to argue back, and he stops himself abruptly. Joshua drops an armful of toys and books at Louis’ feet and tugs at Louis’ trouser leg desperately. “Daddy ready?”

Louis shoots one last ‘absolutely not in front of Joshua’ look at Michael and kneels down to Joshua’s height to retrieve all his things. “C’mon then mate, I’m ready.” 

“See you later, Joshua, papa is going home now!” Michael announces airily, which makes Louis’ blood boil. Joshua toddles across to his father and puts out his hands to be picked up. 

Louis watches the interaction like a hawk, trying to disengage his emotions for a brief moment as Michael kisses their sons head and tells him he loves him. Then, Michael puts Joshua down and is gone without a second thought for Louis. 

*

Liam, accompanied by Cheryl for moral support, seems to be much more chipper come Monday when the three of them plus the two kids meet for toddler group and then coffee afterwards. 

Joshua is his usual charming self, sitting down cross legged on the play mat with Bear and going through all the rules to the game he has made up in painstaking detail, before running off and leaving Bear quite bewilderedly to follow. 

“Joshy, play nicely!” Louis calls after his boy, and Cheryl smiles sympathetically.

“He’s all right, Lou, don’t worry.”

Louis tries his best to settle down, but he’s been uppity all weekend since the situation with Michael and now he can’t get the whole situation out of his mind.

“You all right, mate?” Liam asks, his hand darting out to protect his coffee as a herd of unruly toddlers go flying past with flailing limbs. “You can barely sit still.”

Louis hadn’t realised he’d been fidgeting, but it sounds like a likely story. “Yeah, I’m all right, just…” Louis debates whether to open up the whole can of worms to Cheryl and Liam. They’re nice people, good friends even, and Liam has been more than forthcoming with their own relationship problems in the past. Bless him. 

“When Michael brought Joshua home on Friday night, we ended up in another row and it’s been playin’ on me mind all weekend.”

“Aw,” Cheryl frowns, pushing her hair out of her face. “What did you row over? Joshua?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, though that isn’t all they rowed about, obviously. “That and… well, it’s a long story?”

Cheryl nods. “It’s okay if you don’t want to rehash it all again, but you know we’re here if you want to talk, duck.”

Louis nods. He picks up his tea to buy some time, but thankfully Joshua comes bounding over and spares Louis from having to spill his guts. 

*

Louis decides not to go into it with Liam and Cheryl that day, and for another week or so he continues to battle his demons internally, not voicing his concerns to a soul. Not even Joshua, because knowing Louis’ luck Joshua would suddenly develop the ability to speak in full sentences and drop him right in it with Michael.

It’s Monday again, and tomorrow is Harry’s birthday. They may not be friends anymore, but Louis could never forget the date. Every February the first for the past two years Louis has gone to bed in the evening feeling empty, like he’s forgotten to do something because he hasn’t been able to wish Harry a happy birthday. 

Joshua does a good job of distracting his daddy, even if he doesn’t know it. It’s the last day of the winter market in town so they spend a good portion of the morning there, before finding an empty table inside one of the cafes in the high street so Joshua can have lunch. 

“We see nanny?” Joshua asks between mouthfuls of ham sandwich.

“Yeah, could do lad.”

“Yot-Yot?”

“No babe; Lott-Lott will be at school, and Fizzy and the twinnies.” Louis reminds Joshua, and he frowns but continues to eat his sandwich nonetheless. Louis does his best to settle back in his seat and not worry, but he feels like a million eyes are on him as he sits there. He knows it’s unlikely that Harry will be in the back of a random café on Doncaster high street at midday on a Monday, but he can’t help but to panic. 

It’s drizzling when they leave the cafe, and although Louis has the rain cover for Joshua’s buggy, the wind is working against him not with him and his own hood will not stay up. 

“Bus!” Joshua shouts loudly at each passing bus. “Hiya bus!”

Louis battles against the January winds,  _ wishing _ with every fibre of his body that his mum lived closer, or at the very least, on the bus route. They leave the town and Louis’ surroundings become residential. The rain seems like it might be easing off a bit, but then comes back with a vengeance. By now, Joshua is shouting  _ hiya bus _ at every single vehicle that passes them; bus, car or otherwise.

Louis is drenched and knackered by the time he gets to his mum’s house. She tells him off for not calling her and asking for a lift. Louis accepts a steaming hot brew while Joshua (who has remained happy and dry) tears off into the conservatory to play.

“Your hair’s all fluffy,” Jay giggles from behind her hands as Louis finally snaps and asks her what she’s smirking at. “It’s cute!”

Louis is horrified by that. “Bunnies and babies and teddy bears are cute!“

“Yes, and my oldest boy is cute!” Jay says firmly. “You can’t convince me otherwise, kidder, so stop trying.”

Louis snorts and lifts his tea to his lips. It feels fantastic. It doesn’t last long.

“So I was chatting with Anne the other day, I said that you would meet up with Harry.” The smile falls from her face as she notes Louis’ reaction. “Which… I’m sensing was the wrong thing to do?”

“Oh, mum!” Louis whines. “Why?”

“Well I don’t know what’s going on with you do I?!” Jay exclaims, and Louis feels bad. It’s not her fault he and Harry fucked up like they did. “For what it’s worth, Anne said Harry seems keen to get back on track. His college friends have all moved on and I think he’s a bit lonely. What with Leeds not working out and Gemma getting engaged, I think he’s a bit down in the mouth and sad. He could do with a friend, Loubear. You two were always so close.”

Louis lets her finish, even though he’d stopped absorbing her words somewhere around ‘keen to get back on track’.

“I… I dunno, mum. I’ve moved on with my life and I’m not the same person I was then, am I? Joshua is my main priority.”

“Okay,” Jay says, holding up her hands. “Fair enough.”

Louis sits and stews in his own uncomfortable guilt for a while, wondering how he can make this better without dropping all of his resolve. He knows logically that his mum doesn’t hate him for his minor outburst, and that this event probably won’t stick out in her memory in the days to come, but it still niggles away at him.

With a silent sigh, he changes the subject with something that’s guaranteed to get her talking. “I didn’t know Gemma was engaged?” 

Jay’s face lights up and all talk turns to that of wedding dresses and hen parties, the subject of Harry promptly dropped all together.

*

Harry’s twenty third birthday passes for Louis in the exact same way his twenty second and first did too; uneventfully and unacknowledged. He can’t pretend that his earlier conversation with his mum isn’t playing on his mind.

It’s a week into February and Louis is back at the soft play place with Joshua, Liam and his lot when it all comes up again. Liam is busy crawling around the brightly coloured foam pads with the kids, leaving Louis and Cheryl to talk and drink rubbish tea.

“Did you patch things up with your friend?” Cheryl asks innocently, unaware of the weight of her question. Louis exhales long and slow and then shakes his head. “What’s stopping you, babe?”

Louis finds he can’t even come up with an answer; nothing that encapsulates all his feelings, anyway. So, he just shrugs.

“Why did he even leave in the first place?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Lois says, and it’s true. “We fell out just before I had Joshua, and that was the last time I saw him. I suppose he just wanted to spread his wings and get out of Donny. Who can blame him?”

Cheryl, who isn’t local herself, smiles. “So he’s never met Joshua?” Louis shakes his head. “And what did you fall out over?”

Cheryl senses Louis reluctance to address the issue and, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward, she jumps to her own conclusions. “Did you and this Harry bloke used to be involved?”

“No!” Louis insists. “He’s me best mate. Well, he  _ was _ my best mate.”

“So what happened?”

Louis shrugs and sighs. “Michael and Harry never got along; it was always one or the other, if Michael was with us when we all went out, I couldn’t have fun because Harry always had a face on, and if I was having a laugh and a joke wi’ Harry, Michael used to get funny with me.” 

“Sounds like jealousy to me.”

Louis snorts. “They just didn’t like each other and neither of them, apparently, was bothered about just putting up with each other for my sake.”

“How long were you and Michael together?”

“Just over a year before I got pregnant, and he left me a couple of weeks before Josh was born.”

Cheryl makes a face;  _ arsehole _ , they both agree telepathically. 

“Look, babes, I obviously don’t know all the ins and outs, but maybe now that a bit of time has gone by and you’re both in different places, all that history will just be water under the bridge?”

Louis gives Cheryl a noncommittal maybe, just to placate her and change the subject. 

*

Louis’ jittery nerves that he might run into Harry whenever he left the house dissipated with time, and so of course it’s fitting that when he actually does run into Harry, it’s when he’s least expecting it - right in the middle of Asda.

The strangest thing is, Louis smells Harry before he sees him. The combination of Dreamer by Versace and a certain brand of washing powder spark memories and a reaction that Louis’d thought he’d outgrown. Harry used to think he was the bee’s knees using the Versace fragrance. He’d started off spritzing the tester bottle in Boots onto his neck every time they walked home from school through town, and then when he turned sixteen in ’98 he got a bottle for his birthday. 

Louis had been so used to Harry’s signature scent that he had begun to not even notice it. Today though, after more than two years, the fragrance leaps up and punches Louis straight between the eyes. Their eyes lock and Louis sees Harry’s lips move but he doesn’t hear what he says. 

Louis is so underprepared for this moment, despite all of the build-up. Harry is different but violently familiar at the same time, and Louis can’t even focus on taking it all in because Joshua is about two seconds away from pulling down an entire display case of Cornflakes. 

“How are you?” Harry asks at the same moment Louis says, “Sorry, I- Joshua, no!” 

Louis has to abandon their fledgling conversation and dash after Joshua. He just manages to grab the hood of Joshua’s coat and pull him back before his pudgy, sticky little hand can reach out for the cereals. Of course, the derailment causes Joshua to have a breakdown, and a temper tantrum ensues. Irritatingly, the fact that Harry is there to witness his parenting fail is the thing that perhaps bothers him the most. 

“I’m sorry Joshy,” Louis murmurs into his son’s ear as he holds onto him tightly trying to calm him down. “But if the cereal had fallen down it would’ve made a big,  _ big _ mess.”

“Mess!” Joshua agrees tearfully. “Daddy no mess!”

“It’s all right, there’s no mess, see?” Louis says, swivelling on his knee to show Joshua the still-intact cereal stack. “C’mon, dry these tears, little guy.”

When Louis has calmed Joshua, stood back up and brushed the dust off his knees, Harry is still there. He’s standing rather quite gormlessly, just watching. Louis wonders what is going through his mind right now. Thankfully Harry speaks first, because Louis doesn’t have a clue what he would’ve said to Harry to break the ice.

“I see we have a wannabe cereal killer in our midst!” Harry exclaims, and Louis is so taken aback it makes him feel sick. He’s immediately catapulted backwards to a time gone by, when Harry’s jokes and bad puns were part of his everyday life.

“I… uh-” He doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, Harry saves him once again.

“Congratulations,” Harry says, motioning to Joshua and directing a warm smile directly at the young boy. Joshua shuffles closer to Louis and he feels a small hand tugging at his jeans leg. “I suppose that’s… that’s a few years overdue now.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees coolly. “It is.”

Louis makes note of the fact that Harry looks like he wants to say sorry, but doesn’t. Once Joshua realises that this strange man is probably harmless, he drops his shyness and starts trying to move away from Louis. 

“How’ve you been?” Harry asks timidly. Louis reaches down and pulls Joshua back.

“Fine; more or less the same as I used to be, I just rely on caffeine and paracetamol a lot more now.”

Harry smiles; it’s a sad one and it doesn’t light up his face. It doesn’t make his dimples spring up. “I uh,” Harry suddenly looks down at himself and pats down his chest, “I’d better get back to work but uh, it was… it was so good to see you, Lou.”

Louis hadn’t even noticed that Harry was in an Asda uniform. “Yeah,” Louis murmurs, his brain back to lagging half a mile behind everything else in his body. “I have to go anyway, so…” Harry nods quickly, almost apologetically. “Joshua, y’know. So…” Louis carries on nonsensically. “Bye, Harry.”

Louis doesn’t wait to find out if Harry says anything more. He scoops Joshua up and nestles him on his hip.

“Who da?” Joshua asks, but then he continues to chatter about something and nothing, so Louis doesn’t answer his initial question. Louis makes it around the rest of Asda without bumping into Harry again, and when he’s visiting Cheryl and Liam the next day, she is enthralled by the update.

“I ignored it for so long that eventually we just… bumped into each other.”

“Aww, like fate!” Cheryl beams.

“No,” Louis says with a pointed look. “Not like fate at all.”

*

Monday is Valentine’s Day, and the postman delivers two bright red envelopes through Louis’ door. He rolls his eyes with a small chuckle as he bends down to pick up the envelopes.

“Joshy!” He calls to his son, who comes skidding across the living room towards him with a curious look on his face. “There’s a letter here for you, big boy!”

“Let-uh!” Joshua parrots, holding out his hands expectantly. Louis takes the one addressed to Master J Tomlinson and hands it to his son. Joshua handles it in wonderment, clearly not quite sure what to do now.

“C’mon dude, let’s sit down and open them together.”

Joshua looks up, realising for the first time that Louis has a letter too. “You got one too, dada?”

Louis agrees with Joshua as he herds him over to the sofa, perching on the edge as Joshua scrambles up onto the cushions determinedly. Louis helps him by ripping one edge of the envelope, and when Joshua finally gets the card out of the envelope he looks worn out.

_ “To Joshua, happy Valentine’s Day to my bestest little guy, love from Nanny!” _ Louis reads slowly off the page. “Ah, isn’t that lovely, Joshy? It’s a card from nanny because she loves you!”

“Love ‘ou nana!” Joshua exclaims, grinning for his imaginary audience. Louis smiles to himself. “Yours?”

“Yep, I’ve got one too, let’s open it.”

“Me do it?” Joshua asks, and Louis obliges. His own card is similarly transcribed;  _ ‘To Louis, Happy Valentine’s Day to my prince. Love always, Mum’  _ and Louis can’t help the shimmering tears that pool in his eyes as he reads over and over her beautiful scrawling handwriting. Joshua peers up at him nervously when he sees his dad crying.

“It’s all right, lad,” Louis is quick to reassure Joshua and wipe his tears away. “Happy tears not sad tears.”

Joshua looks around in confusion at that, but he soon gets over it. Louis puts their cards up on the windowsill and then once Joshua is down for his nap about eleven o’clock he calls his mum to thank her for the cards. It isn’t long before the conversation is back on Harry again. 

“I know,” Jay says when Louis finally, after much beating around the bush, reveals that he’d bumped into Harry in Asda. “I was talking to Anne over the weekend.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Couple of old gossips.”

“Oi, less of the old, you.” Jay says. “You know, it was one of the first things Harry told his mum when he got home from work that day, Lou.”

Louis stomach cramps up slightly. “Yeah, well… he obviously doesn’t have much else going on his life does he, if that was the most exciting part of his day.”

“Louis,” Jay says warningly. “He’s your best friend, cut him some slack. We all make mistakes.”

Louis thinks about the bitterness that he’s holding on to but wouldn’t admit to; the happy family he was supposed to have, if things hadn’t all gone to shit. Because of Harry.

“Yeah I know, I just…”

“A lot can change in two and a half years, love.” Jay says wisely. 

Images of chemotherapy drips and silk headscarves flash through Louis’ memory. He shudders. “Mum, don’t.”

“Sorry,” Jay says. “I won’t push it anymore, because I clearly don’t know the full story of what happened with you two. But I’m just saying… life is too short and precious to hold petty grudges, Lou.”

Louis can feel tears pricking in his eyes and he blinks them away furiously as they start to burn. He knows his mum is right, of course he does. Until his mum was diagnosed with cancer, he’d never given any thought to the old ‘live every day as if it was your last’ chestnut, but then out of nowhere their family was hit with the very real possibility that she wouldn’t make it. Now, Louis is more conscious, especially with Joshua in his life now. 

So, the following morning when Joshua is down for his nap, Louis picks up his house phone and dials Harry’s number.

  
  
  


Louis is absolutely thrumming with nerves, which is bloody ridiculous actually. Joshua is with his mum – who was terribly gleeful when Louis had finally broken and asked her – and it’s just Harry’s house. It’s no different to the other countless times he’s been there over the years. Or at least, it shouldn’t be any different, but it’s terrifying to Louis. 

He wonders if it’s changed; and if it has, how? He’s been gradually slowing down the closer he gets, and now unless he suddenly drops dead he has no excuse not to go up to the door and knock. He wonders if anyone inside is watching him as he approaches. 

Louis’ hand trembles as he knocks and it’s barely audible, but only a beat or two later he can hear someone on the approach. Louis’ heart is about to leap out of his chest he’s sure of it, and he can hardly breathe as the door opens and there is Anne.

She’s smiling, that’s a good sign. Anne immediately pulls him in close to her and Louis feels the relief rushing to the surface, replacing the adrenaline.

“It’s so lovely to have you back, sweetheart,” Anne repeats emotively as they embrace, and it doesn’t seem as if she wants to let go. 

“Congratulations as well, which is very overdue, I know.” Anne says once they finally part. “Your mum’s kept me updated with pictures of the little man, he’s absolutely gorgeous Louis; a real credit to you, love.”

“Thanks, Annie,” Louis sniffs, managing a smile. He’s surprised his voice still works.

“I’m sorry, for…”

“Water under the bridge!” Anne declares, waving a hand dismissively and giving Louis another quick cuddle. “D’you have a picture of Joshua?”

Of course Louis has a picture in his wallet; it’s not the most up to date snap but it’s better than the one of newborn Joshua that had occupied his wallet until a few weeks ago. 

“Lou, he’s gorgeous. He’s a little blonde-haired you!” Anne holds the photo carefully at the edges, grinning wildly. “Is he good?”

Louis snorts. “Sometimes. He’s got the devil in him too, mind.”

Anne looks up, grinning. “Sounds like payback for all the hell you raised as a lad!”

Louis splutters out a weak chuckle and his clammy palms prickle with nerves.

“C’mon, love. I think Harry is as nervous as you are!”

Louis follows Anne down the hallway, which simultaneously goes on for too long but not long enough. Anne nods her head towards the living room, and then smiles and dips into the kitchen. Louis takes one last deep breath and reminds himself how stupid he’s being before tentatively pushing open the door and peering around the frame.

Harry is perched at one end of the sofa, looking completely lost and tiny. Louis doesn’t have long to take it all in though, as Harry spots him and leaps to his feet with awkward limbs and an awkward grin. The little blip in the shop aside, this is the first time they’re face to face in over two years. There is a moment’s pause, more on Louis’ side than Harry’s, then they crash together in the middle of the room in a tight, squeezing hug. The embrace diminishes the hurt of the last six hundred and something days and it seems neither of them wants to be the first to let go. 

Eventually they have to, of course. Unlike Louis, who likes a cup of tea on hand at all times, Harry has no such convictions but Louis sits happily without a drink, watching as Harry shifts about uncomfortably.

“This is ridiculous, Haz, isn’t it?” Louis finally breaks the since that is bordering on awkward. “We’ve known each other twenty years mate; we don’t need to be walking on egg shells around each other do we?”

Harry giggles and lets out a stuttering breath, looking quite relieved. “Exactly! Sorry, it’s stupid isn’t it!”

Louis nods with a fond smile and then takes hold of the conversation. “So, back living with mummy, hey?”

Harry rolls his eyes but it’s fond. “Yeah, yeah, let’s all laugh at my failure!”

“You know I’m only joking, Hazza,” Louis says earnestly. “I’m hardly one to talk; my life is a mess since having Joshua! I love him to bits don’t get me wrong, but…” 

“Things have been shit for you haven’t they?”

Louis nods awkwardly. “I know it’s not all about me, though.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry about what happened to your mum, you must’ve been terrified. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

Louis thinks that terrified doesn’t quite cut it, but he nods again.

“I miss her,” Harry muses. “I’m scared I feel like I don’t know her anymore.”

Louis ponders this; he hadn’t stopped to think that his mum’s diagnosis might’ve affected anyone outside of the immediate family. He thinks about all the ways she’s different now; what the cancer robbed her of. The best way Louis could describe it as is that her 40 watt light bulb broke and someone replaced it with a 20 watt; she still shines, of course she does, but she’s cautiously aware of her own mortality now. Selfishly, when the evil disease took hold of her soul the worst part for Louis was the physical changes. She lost weight quickly, she became frail. Radiotherapy thinned her hair and it began to fall out until she shaved it off altogether, the evidence of which was hidden under beautiful silk headscarves.

It’s a short bob now, and grew back in a lot lighter and finer that it had been before, but she’s beginning to look like her old self again and that’s all that matters. 

“She’d welcome you back in with open arms, Harry, you  _ know _ that.”

Harry sniffs, and there’s an almost indiscernible hint of a smile, but it quickly goes. “My mum rang me and told me when Jay got the diagnosis but I kind of just… blocked it out. I didn’t wanna think about it and the mess that I’d left behind.”

Louis nods, feeling a knot forming in his throat that restricts his breathing. “I’m sorry Haz, but can we not talk about this anymore?”

“Sorry,” Harry says sheepishly, lifting his gaze for a moment before shrinking back into the sofa cushion. “I’m sorry for how I acted towards Michael, too. It was childish, and I didn’t realise at the time how much it was affecting everything. I should’ve just let you be happy.”

Louis runs the edge of his palms underneath his eyes. “Yeah, well… I don’t think Michael was in it for the long haul anyway.” 

“Didn’t Joshua being born make him change?”

Louis shakes his head miserably. “He comes and he goes; Joshy knows him but I don’t really know if he  _ knows _ him, d’you know what I mean? I… I wouldn’t change Joshy for the world and I don’t regret him, but…” 

Louis trails off, hoping the rest is implied. Harry chews nervously on his lip, and Louis wonders if he’s uncomfortable with talking about this, but then he realises that without clearing the air they’ll never be able to be friends again. 

“I know what you mean,” Harry says eventually, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had fallen between them.

“I feel like I’ve failed him, honestly. All I wanted for Joshua was for him to have a proper family.”

Harry nods carefully. “He’s got you and your family though.”

“Yeah, but…” Louis agrees weakly, shrugging hopelessly. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Harry nods carefully again, but this time he seems to take the hint and drops the subject. As it turns out, they have loads to catch up on besides the obvious. Louis is very appreciative of the lighter tone their conversation takes, and after a while they’re laughing and making jokes the same way they always used to. 

“God, I missed this,” Harry says, his head thrown back against the sofa cushion. “Leeds was good and all that, but…”

“What made you come back?” Louis asks, because he has genuinely been wondering.

Harry laughs nervously; he’s obviously uneasy about answering and Louis wonders why. “It’s stupid, really. Nothing happened really, I just… I was homesick; missed me mum, missed Gems, missed this place.”

“You missed Doncaster?” Louis asks incredulously, “Are you mad?”

Harry laughs weakly and Louis smiles to show his jest. “I was trying to live a life I wasn’t used to, I think. Things just didn’t work out.”

Louis frowns; there is more to this and he’ll unpick it one day. “I’m sorry.”

Harry wallows in self-pity for just another beat before shaking it off and smiling broadly. “It’s okay, it’s not the end of the world! It was an experience, at the end of the day. I saw some… stuff!”

Louis snorts. “I bet! Were you living with people or did you have a place?” 

“No!” Harry yelps quickly. “I couldn’t have afford that! I went with Niall, remember him? There was about six of us in a big flat above a bookies; it was a real shithole, Lou, I tell you!”

“Not quite up to your  _ four bedroomed semi in the South of Yorkshire _ standards, eh?”

Harry cackles loudly, his mouth wide open and full of teeth, and that seems to signify the last of in inhibitions slipping away. It doesn’t really feel like they’ve been apart at all. Harry is far more in tune with the comings and goings of a two and a half year old than Louis could’ve imagined, and for a while something uncomfortable sits in the void across his chest; an uneasy feeling that perhaps he’d made a mistake pushing his best friend away. In more ways than one . 

  
  
  


Harry and Louis hang out once more, and then the next time Harry comes over to the flat he meets Joshua properly. Louis traipses back and forth, absolutely thrumming with nerves, while he waits for Harry but as soon as he’s there it becomes clear that his anxiety was misplaced.

However, when Harry sees Jay again for the first time the anxiety is rife in both of them. Louis’ hand is clammy and shaky as he pushes his key into the lock and lets them in. Joshua is with Mark and the girls, and so they have a free house. Louis leads the way and Harry follows reluctantly behind, always a step or two behind Louis. 

“Hiya mum, it’s only us!” Louis calls out, surprised to hear his voice wobble in the thick, otherwise silent air. 

“In the kitchen, love!” He hears his mum call back, and they follow the sound of her voice. Louis looks back over his shoulder before they go in, and he and Harry share a quick exchange without words.

Louis pushes the ajar door open and steps inside, giving his mum a small smile and a quick wave as Harry steps in; Louis hears the breath hitch in his throat. Jay gets to her feet, her happy smile quickly giving way to overwhelmed tears that she tries to hide behind her hands. 

They meet in the middle of the room in a tearful embrace, Harry repeating over and over that he’s sorry. Louis takes a step back, focussing on keeping his own breathing in check. He gazes past the scene, although in his periphery he can see Harry and his mum holding onto each other tightly, rocking from side to side.

Louis wonders, specifically, what Harry is so apologetic for, why the two of them seem so beaten up by the events that have transpired in the time Harry’s been away. By the time they separate, Jay is laughing and Harry is hiding his own giggles behind his face. “It’ll all work out, Harry love.” Jay is saying, and it almost feels too private for Louis’ ears. 

It’s a pleasant hour or so; Louis can tell just by looking at him that Harry is gaining comfort from the things that are slowly slotting back into place. 

It’s different now, of course, but it’s not too dissimilar from the evenings they used to spend around this table in the old house, in the throes of their awkward teenage years scarfing down homemade grub and winding each other up while Jay sat watching them fondly. 

Louis has missed his best friend; he hadn’t realised until this point just how lonely he’d been since becoming a dad. Liam was lovely, but they were missing the lifelong connection that he and Harry had had. That wasn’t Liam’s fault, of course, and they are kindred spirits in other ways. 

*

In the days and weeks that follow, it is not all plain sailing but there are more good days than bad days. The oft-discarded mobile phone that Louis had been rebelling against needing becomes more prevalent as a good way of keeping in touch with Harry; that’s something different than before. Liam is happy for him that they’ve patched things up, and Cheryl has this irritating ‘know-it-all’ gleam in her eye but a very small part of Louis’ brain knows that she probably isn’t a million miles away from being right. 

Joshua seems to adore Harry; it hits Louis once and then he refuses to acknowledge it again, but Harry has probably spent more time with Joshua in the last three months than his own father has. 

It’s Saturday morning now, the middle of March and nearing eleven AM but Joshua and Louis have been awake since before seven. Harry is on his way over, and when he arrives he foregoes Louis almost entirely and makes a beeline for the two year old. 

“Hiya mate! How are you today?”

“Dine-dine,” Joshua tells Harry proudly, patting the applique T-Rex on his green t-shirt.

“Is that your favourite dine-dine, the one on your t-shirt?” Harry asks, and Joshua nods without a second thought. “Oh that’s so cool! It’s my favourite dine-dine too!”

Once Joshua knows that Harry is a fan of dinosaurs, that’s it; he drags his entire toy box into the middle of the room and tips out its contents onto the floor. Joshua babbles away, instructing Harry on which ‘dine-dine’ goes where and despite the fact there’s no way Harry can be understanding everything Joshua tells him - Louis can’t even pick some of it out - Harry listens steadfastly and indulges him as they play together on the floor. 

“Hawee got ‘is one an dri’ nee-naw ah dine-dine go BANG! Ahhhh!” Joshua babbles away happily.

“He wants you to drive the police car into all the dinosaurs to save the town,” Louis explains, grinning as Harry cottons on and leaps into action. He takes two of Joshua’s toy police cars and pushes them quickly across the carpet towards Joshua’s herd of dinosaurs.

“Bang!” Harry mimics, and Joshua shrieks with delight as he sends the little plastic T-Rex’s flying into the air. “Don’t you go destroying our town, naughty dine-dine’s!” 

“Nau-ee dine-dine!” Joshua joins in, smashing two plastic reptiles together. “No des-oy town!”

Joshua goes down for his nap just after midday.

“I’m just gonna zip around and tidy up, I’ll only be a minute,” Louis says, expecting Harry to perch on the edge of the sofa and wait, but he drags the toy box closer and starts picking things up. “You don’t have to do that, mate.”

“I know,” Harry grins. “But I want to.”

Once the living room is put back together, with cups of tea Harry and Louis sit back down. Though the awkwardness has faded now, Louis is still slightly apprehensive, mainly because he’s worried Harry is bored to tears.

“It’s just nice to be able to play dinosaurs without the fear of being judged,” Harry says with a lop-sided smirk. “That kid is amazing, Lou, you should be  _ so _ proud.”

Louis blushes. “Yeah, well, I’ve had loadsa help.”

“No, it’s down to you, Lou.” Harry corrects. “I might be speaking out of turn here, but Michael isn’t around is he? ‘Cause I probably wouldn’t even be sat here right now, if he knew.”

Louis winces slightly; the conversation is venturing into uncharted territory but they probably need to get this out of the way if they’re ever going to fully repair their friendship. “No, that’s probably true.”

“What happened?” Harry asks. “I don’t understand how he can live with never seeing Joshua.”

“He does see him, sometimes.”

“Lou, you don’t need to defend him all the time.”

“I know that, and I’m not, I’m just saying!” Louis says, sighing so he can steal a second to calm himself. “I’m not defending him, I just don’t want to make the situation with him any worse than it is.”

“Lou, you’re not gonna make things worse by sticking up for yourself. And if that’s all it takes for him to throw his toys out the pram, then you’re both better off without him.”

Louis’ rational side and his petulant side are warring and he decides it’d be best just to not say anything at all. Luckily, Harry seems like he has _ a lot  _ to say. 

“Lou, I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. You’ve got Joshua to think about above everything and responsibility like that is beyond my comprehension; just tell me to shut up if I’m crossing the line, okay?”

Louis smirks. “You’re fine. I just… I guess I didn’t realise how unhappy he was making me until I had to learn to live without him. Then I realised. And I don’t want Joshua growing up thinking one of his parents hates him, or doesn’t have time for him.”

“It’ll be Michael’s loss,” Harry says quietly. 

But it’s not that simple. Louis mulls it over as he gulps down half of his tea and picks at a dry smearing of something on the arm of his sofa – possibly jam. He can’t even be bothered to be irritated by it. Thankfully, he’s saved from having to come up with an answer for Harry by Joshua appearing in the doorway.

“Hey little man,” Louis rasps, pushing all the unsavoury thoughts out of his mind. “You haven’t been asleep long, have you?”

Joshua’s all rosy cheeked and his blonde curls are matted on one side; he watches Harry closely before remembering and breaking into a grin.

“Dine-dine?” He asks hopefully.

“No mate, no dine-dine until later, daddy just got everything tidied up.”

They stave off a meltdown by heading to the park, Harry’s idea. Joshua wriggles out of his coat within a few minutes of playing, and while Louis begins to get uppity and demand that Joshua puts his coat back on, Harry touches one hand to his arm and stops him.

“It’s all right, Lou, it’s not too cold that he’ll catch a chill.”

Louis just nods helplessly, watching as Harry goes chasing after Joshua. If Louis doesn’t rein it in, his mind can travel too far, like it’s doing now. It’s not difficult. Joshua is happy and at ease with Harry, something Louis has never witnessed on the admittedly few occasions when it’s been him, Joshua and Michael. This could’ve been so much different. 

“Dadda!” Joshua’s elated squeals pull Louis from his reverie, and he looks over to see Joshua swinging confidently across the monkey bars, atop Harry’s shoulders. 

“Wow, look at you!” Louis drags all of his enthusiasm to the surface for the sake of his little boy. “You’re so high up!” 

“Strong Joshy!” Joshua cheers triumphantly as they reach the end of the bars and Harry lifts him off. 

“Let’s go back to daddy!” Harry cries, holding Joshua around his middle so the boy can make his way back down the monkey bars feeling like he’s doing it all by himself this time. 

“There’s my boy!” Louis exclaims happily as Joshua swings off the last bar and into his arms. “Well done baby, that was so cool!”

“I go slide!” Joshua demands without even pausing to catch his breath. Dutifully Louis puts him down and he scampers off towards the slide on hilariously rigid and over-excited little legs. 

Harry is matching his own wistful, fond smile when Louis glances over at him. Harry must sense eyes on him and glances across too. He laughs softly and a misty cloud of condensation engulfs him momentarily. 

“He’s loving it, isn’t he?” Harry comments innocently. Louis can only manage a faltering smile and a nod. “And he’s already braver than his old man!”

Louis snorts out a laugh. “Excuse me?!”

“Yeah, you may have blocked it conveniently from memory but I still remember a certain someone getting stuck on top of the monkey bars and having to get his mum to help him down!”

Louis yelps, aghast. “I was like seven!”

“Fifteen!” Harry corrects. “Even seven year olds can climb the monkey bars, Lou!”

“I can’t believe you’re trying to rewrite history like this!” Louis jokes, flipping Harry off mere seconds before Joshua turns around and demands they watch him on the slide. 

*

The next day is Sunday which only means one thing; roast dinner at mums. What Louis doesn’t expect is to catch sight of Lottie in the driver's seat of their mums dark blue Ford Galaxy. 

“Erm, what the flip flops is going on here, guys?” 

“I’m driving!” Lottie exclaims, as if that was the part Louis was struggling with. “We’ve finally, after seven flipping months,” she pauses to glare at Jay, “got me insured on mums car! Yay!”

Jay leans forward from the passenger seat and cranes her neck to see Louis through the driver’s window. “Hi love; sorry about this, Lotts twisted my arm to let her drive!”

“Yottie drive!” Joshua shrieks happily, battling Louis to be put down so he can get into his car seat. 

Louis watches in bewilderment as Lottie gives him a smug grin and revs the engine slightly. “C’mon, get in or you can walk!”

With no other choice, Louis pulls open the back door for Joshua and helps him scramble into his car seat before walking around the car to the other side and taking a seat. 

“Mum, is this really a good idea?” He asks as he carefully puts on his seatbelt, making sure it’s securely clipped in. 

But as it turns out, Lottie is a good little driver. She’s still got a little way to go, Louis would imagine, before she’s test ready, but they make it back to Edenthorpe in one piece. 

The twins run out of the house before the engine is even cut, and there is no sign of Fizzy, who was supposedly entrusted to look after her little sisters during the fifteen minutes Lottie and Jay were out. 

“Feeb Dais!” Joshua squeals, kicking his legs in excitement as he spots his littlest aunties. Louis battles to get Joshua unstrapped as he’s thrashing about so much, and has to firmly tell him to behave for a second. 

“Aw, leave him alone, he’s pleased to see us!” Daisy whines, and Louis doesn’t even look up to scowl at her. 

“There you go,” he mutters, and Joshua launches himself out of his seat out of the car to where his twin aunties are waiting impatiently. 

The welcoming smell of chicken and red hot roasting oil hits Louis as he walks inside. He drops Joshua’s bag and coat at the foot of the stairs with the rest of the organised chaos and heads straight through to the conservatory where he can hear the hubbub if children playing. 

“All right, Fiz?” He waves as he passes by his middle sister sprawled out across the sofa watching the Hollyoaks omnibus. He gets a vague swat in his direction in return. 

Lottie disappears upstairs somewhere and the twins keep Joshua suitably entertained, so Louis busies himself watching his mum move around the kitchen prepping the dinner. He does offer to help, but he knows her well enough that she would prefer to be left alone rather than have him under her feet. 

“You could set the table for me though, love?” She asks, handing him a handful of cutlery. Louis nods and gets to it. 

Joshua is bereft to have to stop playing, but when he sees his chopped up potato, carrots and chicken with gravy his mood changes again. The seven of them sit down to their Sunday dinner with varying levels of noise and chatter about boys and school and homework and their friends. Louis is happy to take a back seat, with one eye on Joshua, and let the girls clamour over the things that are going on in their fledgling imaginations. He is just happy to see them happy in the face of so many evil entities that should’ve stripped them of their happiness.

After dinner, the twins and Lottie and Fizzy all help out with their assigned jobs, while Louis sits at the table wondering how long he can ignore Joshua’s dirty nappy and carrot-y chops for. 

“Why does Lou get to sit around doing nothing?!” Phoebe demands to know as she scrapes peas and gravy into a bin bag. 

“Because he’s a guest!” Jay replies, but then she turns to Louis. “However, if you’d change your son's nappy, I’d be obliged, love. It’s starting to make my eyes water.”

Joshua does not take kindly to having his nappy changed, for a multitude of reasons including but not limited to the fact that his afternoon nap is severely overdue and unsurprisingly, once he’s clean again and has had a minute or two in his daddy’s arms, he is out like a light. Louis tucks him into the corner of the sofa and asks Fizzy to keep an eye on him. 

“He nodded off?” Jay smiles as Louis reappears in the kitchen. “Good lad, he did well with his dinner. He’ll probably sleep a good hour or so with a nice full tummy.”

Louis nods and helps himself to a cold drink before sitting back down at the table.

“So you two and Harry had a nice day together yesterday, I hear?” Jay says breezily. Louis glances up, wondering if the mirth in her voice is evident on her face. She has her back to him still. He wonders if it’s on purpose. 

“Yeah,” he manages. “It was… it was fine. We took Joshua to the park.”

“Anne said Harry’s really come out of shell in the last few weeks, says he’s like his old self again.”

“Well that’s good,” Louis observes, wondering where this is going. “I’m glad we’re mates again, if that’s what she’s on about.”

“Well yes, amongst other things as well.” 

“Mum,” Louis says sternly. “What are you getting at?”

Jay puts her tea towel down and settles her elbows on the kitchen counter with this sort of nostalgic, wistful look on her face.

“Harry’s a good lad, he’s a nice boy.”

Louis sighs. “Yes. I never said he wasn’t.”

“Anne told me he doesn’t shut up about Joshua at home; he’s totally taken with him.”

“Yeah, it’s nice that he gets on well with Josh.” Louis agrees. “Some people lose all their friends after having a baby.”

“Lou,” She interrupts. “Y’know, me and Anne have always said, right from the school days, that you and Harry are like a like an old married couple. Absolutely perfect for each other.”

Louis rolls his eyes, wishing he had something here between them to act as a distraction. “Mum, we’re literally best friends. Just because we’re both gay doesn’t automatically mean we should get married.”

“No I know that,” She says hastily. “I wasn’t insinuating that and you know it.” He does know it. He nods guiltily. “Forget I said anything, okay?”

  
  
  


March becomes  April , and Louis has had to spill his guts to someone for fear of his predicament prematurely ending him. Cheryl and Liam both stare back at him sympathetically, though unsurprised.

“What?” Louis squawks, attracting both Bear and Joshua’s attention momentarily. “Why are you both lookin’ at me like that?”

“Well…” Liam begins, before Cheryl takes over.

“Maybe your mam’s onto something?” She suggests, shrugging her shoulders. “Mam’s do know best!”

Liam and Cheryl share a little look and a chuckle between them; Louis casts his eyes heavenwards during.

“Maybe so, but she’s barking up the wrong tree with this.”

“Can you honestly say, hand on heart that nothing has ever happened between yous?”

“No it hasn’t, we’re just friends!”

Cheryl is persistent. “It’s not even come up,  _ just _ once?”

“No!”

“You didn’t even consider it?”

“No, Cheryl!” Louis insists, his veil flimsier this time, and she sees right through the torn lace. “Shut up, maybe! Okay? But we’ve been through a lot, especially in school and college; none of our mates were into boys so all we had was each other.”

The thing is, Cheryl doesn’t even look pleased with herself for getting the truth out of Louis. If anything, she looks even more sympathetic and uncomfortable.

“You said before that things started going pear shaped after you and Michael got together. All the more so once you were pregnant. As soon as you gave him what for, he was gone. I’m just saying… it sounds to me like Harry might’ve had more than just your best interests at heart, babe.”

Louis doesn’t want that information. It hurts his chest. 

“You don’t have to marry the man tomorrow, Lou, just… let him down gently.”

Louis reaches for his lukewarm tea in his Styrofoam cup as a distraction, swallowing around the pale brown liquid sharply.  _ Let him down gently;  _ Cheryl’s words repeat in his head. He could laugh if he wasn’t so bloody miserable. The more he considers Cheryl’s stance, versus the words his mum had delivered to him at Sunday dinner, the more it becomes obvious that someone has the wrong end of the stick. Thing is, Louis knows who is right and who is wrong here, and it’s something he’s not ready to face up to yet.

  
  
  


Louis’ awkward limbo is even more put upon by the untimely invitation to Niall’s birthday night out. He argues quite weakly that he shouldn’t have to be there, that he can’t lump Joshua on his mum again, that he’s too old for nights out on the town now, but Jay had happily piped up that she would watch Joshua and Harry is very good at getting what he wants. 

That is how Louis finds himself Joshua-less at his flat staring at three different shirts wondering if there is even a difference at all between the trio. Because he’s starting to doubt there is by now. 

His mum’s smug expression as he’d dropped Joshua off with her earlier plays on Louis’ mind as he tries to sky blue Ben Sherman again. 

“No you tit, you look ridiculous!” He mutters, furiously unbuttoning the shirt and throwing it behind him onto the bed. He takes a moment, no more than that, to scowl at his post-baby body and long for the days when he  _ thought _ he was fat. 

He ends up in Ben Sherman, but his navy blue one. Variety is the spice of life, after all. With a splash of aftershave and far too much gel keeping his spiked hair do up, Louis feels like a prize fool as he waits for Harry and the taxi to show up. 

Once it does, and Louis’ spent as long as he possibly can locking the door and checking it twice, he has to join the group. Harry has opened the passenger side back door and is standing in the open doorway, one foot propped up on the door trim. 

“Lou!” He exclaims, apparently already a little pissed. “We’re here! You’re here! Your blue shirt, it’s so lovely, Lou!”

Louis’ cheeks burn as he thanks, shushes and bundles Harry back into the taxi. “Thanks, love. All right, lads?” He sends a cursory greeting around the taxi to the other two lads, plus another he doesn’t recognise. 

Everyone else seems to have indulged in pre-drinks and Louis in his sober state feels quite uncomfortable. 

“Louis, how’s your boy? He must be getting on for two now?” The blonde one, Niall shouts across the car. 

“Yeah, he’s three in September actually. And uh, happy birthday, too. By the way.”

Niall grins. “Cheers, pal.”

*

Louis hasn’t been clubbing for a couple of years now, and the last time he was this drunk he quite possibly made a baby.  _ That _ won’t be happening tonight though, that’s for sure. 

The club is dark and loud. Louis keeps catching flashes of Niall in his beige shirt but it’s too dark to keep tabs on everyone. It doesn’t take long for the bubbles to reach Louis’ head, being so out of practice and all. He sways easily in time to the music, the bass making his limbs vibrate. Warm bodies press up close to him but it’s just people passing through the crowds to get to where they want to be. 

“Lou!” 

Louis is sure he can hear his name being called, and the next thing he knows two hands are landing on his shoulders.

Harry is beaming from ear to ear; with every flash of the strobe lights Louis can see how sweaty and pink cheeked he is. He yells happily over the pounding bass but Louis can only pick out every other word or so. He winces, waving a hand in Harry’s face to indicate he can’t hear a thing, and Harry bursts into silent giggles when he realises. 

Harry’s fit of giggles knocks him, almost literally, off his feet and as he reaches out for Louis’ arm to steady himself Louis notices how warm Harry’s skin is. Has it always been that way or is it a direct reaction to their surroundings?

Harry tugs on Louis’ shirt sleeve to steady himself and to bring Louis closer. “Are you having a nice time?” He shouts by Louis’ left ear, clearer this time but only just. 

“Yeah,” Louis calls back, though it’s probably unconvincing because Harry draws back and throws Louis a look. “I’m fine!” Louis tries again with more enthusiasm this time. Harry studies him closely before throwing out another smile and looping his arms around Louis’ neck. 

“I’m drunk,” Harry says as he collapses himself down to rest his head upon Louis’ shoulder. He speaks so softly, and Louis isn’t sure if Harry’s even intended the words to come out. By way of a response, Louis pats his hand gently over Harry’s back. He can feel the unrest in Harry’s bones, how awkwardly he’s carrying himself. 

“You’re all right, Hazza.” He tries to soothe his best friend whilst still trying to maintain some distance. It doesn’t seem to be working. Louis can feel Harry’s heavy, mistimed breaths in the rise and fall of his shoulders. Harry’s fingers dig into Louis’ skin where he’s draped around his neck. He burrows his head further down, and Louis almost misses it, but a curiously well-timed drop in the beat coincides perfectly with the four words that leave Harry’s lips next.

“I love you, Lou.” 

Louis’ heart lurches; it’s not an uncommon thing for them to say to each other, but this doesn’t feel. He maintains a steady rhythm between Harry’s shoulder blades and carefully shifts his weight onto one leg to better support the over enthusiastic Labrador. 

“Always have,” Harry speaks again, unprompted. “Always will do, probably. I’ve done some bad things though; I haven’t been a good friend. I’ve been a bad friend.

Harry’s words buzz in Louis chest, somehow overpowering the music and the bass.

“You’re drunk, love.” Louis whispers, as if that would magically alleviate Harry’s fears. 

“No,” Harry replies quickly. “Well, yeah a bit. But I know what I’m doing. Saying.“

“Harry, you’ve not been a bad friend. Promise.”

Harry lifts his head rather abruptly, and Louis catches sight of him during a brief series of light bursts. He still looks as desperate and confused as he did earlier; limp hair and pale skin. 

“It’s all my fault that you were sad, Loulou. When Michael came along and took you away from me I hated him, but you couldn’t see it. All I wanted was for you to see what a dick he was and leave him, but then… and then, y’know. It all happened and… I was a dick as much as he was.”

Pretending that he can’t hear Harry’s words would be so much easier in this situation, but the fact that Harry’s words have so much weight behind them and are obviously so difficult for him to confess makes that difficult.

“Hazza,” Louis tries, pressing more firmly on Harry’s shoulders to prompt his head up off his chest. 

Harry’s head lolls, like moving is taking all of his efforts. Louis glances at Harry’s mouth; the birth place of his confession. Louis’ mind is getting more and more unclear with every passing second, and it’s not due to booze. 

The next thing Louis knows, Harry is tentatively reaching up to his face. He spreads his fingers into Louis’ hair and rests the heel of his palm against the curve of his cheek. Louis can’t draw himself out of the pull of Harry’s eyes. He’s  _ never _ seen them like this before. 

And then they’re kissing. Thing is, Louis isn’t sure who closes the gap between them. He might’ve leaned in first, subconsciously, or maybe it was Harry helping them across the finish line. 

“Haz, this is…” Louis whispers against Harry’s lips. 

“It’s okay,” Harry mumbles, and the words die on Louis’ tongue. “If you’re okay with it then so am I. It’s fine.”

Louis will take Harry’s logic in that moment. He’d probably accept any old shit as reasoning, to be honest. It’s not the feeling that this is wrong that is holding Louis up, it's the knowing that after tonight nothing will be the same. 

When their lips meet again the whole thing is an electrifying blur juxtaposed with sensory overload as Louis loses track of his surroundings and what is going on around them, but becomes fine tuned to the feel of Harry’s skin, lips, hands on him. For some reason, Louis never expected Harry would be a good kisser. Or maybe he’d just never thought about it, good or bad. But he is. 

When they pull apart, Louis is sort of glad it’s dark and they’re a little bit buzzed because he feels like all of his feelings and emotions are showing on the surface of his skin and that makes him feel vulnerable. This previously unexplored dynamic of their pairing feels like all Louis wants in that moment; safety, comfort, love.

But then a familiar face appears in Louis’ field of vision, and it takes him a minute to realise its Niall’s brother Greg. Greg goes straight to Harry, thanks God, because Louis’ not sure he could communicate in full sentences at this point. 

Louis loses Harry somewhere along the way, and ends up in a taxi home with Zayn; the alcohol has seemingly perked Zayn up because they talk more in their fifteen minute taxi journey home than they have done the entire time Louis has known him.

*

It’s two thirty when Louis gets home. Quarter past three when he falls asleep on the sofa. Quarter to eight he’s awake again.

Louis lies on his side on the sofa, Joshua’s fleece blanket draped over his lower half; before falling asleep he’d managed to get out of his jeans but not much else. His dress shirt feels stiff and boxy now that he’s sober and in the cold light of day. Nevertheless, eh continues to lay there, the sound of his blood pumping noisily through his veins lulling him into a false sense of security for not ten minutes later, a small knock at the front door brings closure to Louis’ motionless bubble of ignorance. 

Louis swings his legs over the edge of the sofa and hisses as his joints crackle. He pulls last night’s jeans back on and approaches the door with caution. He can tell just by his guest’s posture, even though the frosted glass, who it is. 

Harry too is still in yesterday’s outfit, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his denim blazer, and he looks honestly like death warmed up. Louis doubts he’d had much, if any, sleep at all. Harry’s lips are pursed, and when they lock eyes he manages a weak smile. 

“Is it all right if I come in?” Harry asks timidly, his hesitant shyness reminiscent of when he first came back from Leeds. 

“Yeah,” Louis croaks, clearing his throat. As he pushes shut the front door and the noises from outside dissipate, his hacking cough sounds like bombs going off. “Sorry.”

Harry doesn’t lift his head, just makes his way over to the sofa and perches on the end. “Did you sleep here?”

Harry picks up the fleece strewn over the sofa cushions, and Louis nods as he sits down too, same sofa but with plenty of space put between him and Harry. 

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Harry nods unconvincingly. “Shattered and feel like shit, but I’ll be fine.”

Louis nods sagely, meaning to muster up a sympathetic smile but not managing it. 

“So…” Harry says after a small silence. “I should explain myself, shouldn’t I?”

Louis’ heart tenses up. “No.” Harry glances round at him. “That makes it sound like you did something bad.”

“Haven’t I?”

“No,” Louis murmurs, tucking his foot behind his leg. “You haven’t hurt anyone.”

“I remember it all,” Harry informs him, before looking away again. “What I said… what we did.”

Louis does too; he could’ve got blackout drunk, hit his head and woke up with memory loss and he’s sure he would still be able to feel the ghost of Harry’s kiss.

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah,” Harry says almost without hesitating. “I still need to properly explain myself though. I didn’t do a very good job of that last night.”

Louis nods; he knows that conversation isn’t over. “And about- about…”

“I meant that too,” Harry saves him. “I meant that a lot; scarily so. I know that changes things now, and if we can’t be friends anymore I’ll understand. I don’t regret telling you because it’s been killing me for years now keeping it all bottled up, but I will really miss you. Y’know, if-”

“Harry,” Louis cuts in. “I’m going nowhere, okay?”

Honestly, the look on Harry’s face as the realisation that  _ it worked out _ hits him. His mouth falls open into a surprised little O before a smile immediately tickles the corners of his lips, breaking out into a broad grin.

“For real?”

Louis has to smile too; it’s infectious. “Yeah! Don’t think you’re getting rid of me  _ that _ easy, Styles!”

With the mood lightened enough for them to both relax back into each other’s company, Louis feels he can breathe properly again. It seems like things are going to be all right. He reaches out, nudges Harry’s knee with one finger and then holds open his arms, coaxing Harry closer.

Harry eyes him nervously, like he’s double checking he has permission to move closer, before shuffling up the sofa and tucking himself into Louis’ side. They’ve got more, loads, to discuss, but for now idle chit chat with long pauses in between is good enough for them. No pressure. 

*

Louis’ sure he’s going to fall asleep right here with Harry in his arms. It’s a different sort of perfect, an unexpected perfection. 

“Hazza,” He whispers, squeezing Harry’s shoulder softly. “I’m fallin’ asleep here.”

Harry makes a strange noise in his throat, and Louis realises he was probably just about to nod off too. “Yeah, I uh, yeah. Same.” Harry stammers. 

“Shall we…” Louis’ about to suggest getting into his bed and sleeping off their hangovers, but he stops himself at the last minute. However, as he sheepishly meets Harry’s eye, the other just shrugs his shoulders as if to say ‘ _ might as well’. _

It’s not as if they haven’t shared a bed before. Right now, this is no different. Louis gets in his side and a satisfied shiver runs down his spine as comfort washes over him. Harry shrugs off his blazer, letting it fall to the floor, and pulls back the duvet on the empty side.

It doesn’t take Louis long at all to drop off to sleep. They share rapidly nonsensical chatter back and forth for a while, but then the next thing Louis knows he’s waking up to his 11am alarm with a very hot and sweaty Harry wrapped around his back.

Curls tickle Louis’ cheek as he glances back over his shoulder. Harry’s features quickly school into a frown at the alarm, his lips slightly parted and though he’s pale his cheeks are ruddy with colour. 

“Urgh, what is that?” Harry groans, pulling the corner of his pillow over his face.

“I’m picking Joshua up from my mum at twelve,” Louis explains as he wriggles out of Harry’s arms to smack the alarm silent again. 

As Louis settles back down against the mattress, Harry rolls onto his front and props his head up in his hands. He looks fantastic; with his hair flopping everywhere and his bleary eyed barely focussed.

“What time is it now?”

“Eleven.”

“Cool, so… forty five minutes, roughly, until you need to be out the door?”

“I dunno,” Louis replies with a grin. “Might be cutting it a bit fine.”

“I’m sure Jay won’t mind you being a few minutes late.” Harry smirks.

“Why, what do you have in mind anyway?”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows. “Nah, I just… I don’t wanna leave. I’m scared I’ll step outside of my bubble and it will all be horrible again.”

“Haz,” Louis stops him. “Stop worrying.”

Harry peers up at him and they both share a nervous giggle, like schoolboys. They talk for a little while, about Joshua and about Leeds and Lottie’s driving, until Harry’s wrist has gone dead and he has to lie back down. 

They lie facing each other in the middle of the bed, the duvet pooled around their middles and a respectful distance apart except from Harry’s knee which strays over to Louis’ side of the bed and rests against his thigh comfortably.

“It’s been a crazy weekend, hey?” Harry kicks off the conversation that Louis knew they were edging towards with all the small talk.

“Yeah it has,” He agrees. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Harry replies quickly, and he tries to subdue his growing smile by biting on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I…”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Louis rolls his eyes. “It’s very flattering.”

Harry mumbles something illegible and his cheeks fill with colour. Quietly, without looking up at Louis, he mumbles, “Can I kiss you again?”

Louis gets a thrill from hearing those words, from thinking about kissing Harry. This time yesterday the thought had never crossed his mind, and now he’s giving himself chest pains with how hard and fast his over-keen heart is hammering.

“You may,” He grins, a wobble in his voice.

It’s their first time doing this sober, and it’s better than last night. As far as first kisses go, theirs was a good one, but this morning with his brain clear of the fog of alcohol, every single now that Louis is fully aware and 

And that’s when it hits him; he’s kissing Harry, his best friend for as long as he can remember. His nerves and adrenaline and emotions get the better of him and he bursts out laughing against Harry’s lips.

Harry shrinks back immediately. “What!?”

“I’m sorry!” Louis claps a hand to his mouth in horror. “I’m sorry, it just dawned on me what we’re doing and I’ve gone all giddy!”

“Louis!” Harry whines, throwing his head down onto the pillow and scrubbing his hands over his face.

“It’s weird, it’s like kissing my best mate!”

Harry gives him a pointed look, and Louis snorts again. “I’m sorry! Kiss me again, c’mon! I’m sorry.”

Harry pouts, letting all of the weight in his shoulders slump. “No, you’re just gonna laugh at me again.”

“I’m not, I promise. I’m over it now, swear.” Louis tries to assure Harry, slipping his fingers across Harry’s collarbone to bring him back in. “Kiss me again.”

*

Louis doesn’t tell his mum right away; it’s impossible to keep secret, but somehow he manages to keep it to himself until later on in the week on Tuesday when Harry comes over once Joshua is in bed.

“So… here’s the thing,” he begins, and Harry’s face falls. “I need to tell someone about this,” Louis motions between them, “But I don’t really know what to say?”

“Oh!” Harry yelps in obvious relief. “Well, what do you want to tell her?”

Louis sighs because he feels that Harry is evading the question; after being the bloody instigator so far. 

“No,” Harry corrects him, obviously reading his mind. Creepy. “This is as much about your feelings as it is mine, Lou. If I had a gun to your head this minute and was forcing you to tell her or else I’d shoot your brains out, what would you say?”

Louis has to laugh. “Right, well… I guess I’d say that it’s never felt this natural with anyone before.”

“Yeah?” Harry perks up. “What else?”

“I’ve never kissed someone that I was already friends with,” Louis adds, feeling himself blush slightly as Harry watches and drinks up his words like he’s been through a drought. “That’s nice, it’s like a bonus.”

“D’you think that it would work, y’know, if we… if we tried?”

“I think we’ve got as good a chance as any other couple. How do you feel?”

“What about Michael?” Harry asks, and Louis’ heart sinks. “He’s Joshua’s dad, and his dislike of me is  _ very _ well documented.”

“He can’t stop me living my life,” Louis says weakly. “He left me before Joshua was even born, Haz. I think it’s safe to say he doesn’t care about me or what I do.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, though he obviously doesn’t agree. “I just… you know what he’s like, Lou.”

“Hmm,” Louis acquiesces reluctantly, and then they fall into a beat or two of silence. He knows Michael will make his life hell for a while. He will deal with that, though. “Let’s not talk about him, hey? Let’s just enjoy where this is going for a little while before we start worrying about other people.

*

Getting to know Harry all over again is exciting. Facets of his personality his quirky ways that Louis had never been tuned into before are suddenly revealed. Whilst in the beginning stages of any ‘normal’ courtship the friendly flirty banter would come with time, they already have all of that in abundance. It feels very natural.

Having said all of that though, Louis still has moments where he feels overwhelmed and frankly ridiculous. Who is he to even  _ think _ that he could possibly pull off a relationship with such a wonderful person that he’s already have the privilege of knowing for twenty plus years?

And so, with Harry’s explicit permission, Louis sits down with his mum on a quiet Wednesday afternoon in early May and has ‘the talk’.

“So, I might’ve met someone?”

“Might’ve?” Jay asks, brow arched and biscuit poised to her mouth. “What do you mean, might’ve?”

“Well, I have met someone. A while ago.” Louis’ brain applauds itself for the understatement of the century.

“Oh yes? And who is this ‘someone’ that you met ‘a while ago’? Do they have a name?”

“Obviously,” Louis rolls his eyes. “It’s uh, it’s Harry.”

Jay snorts, obviously still oblivious. “What a coincidence!” She begins to chuckle, meeting Louis’ eye as she does so, and when she sees he’s not laughing too, it clicks.

“I knew it!” Se shrieks, dropping her biscuit. “It’s our Harry isn’t it?!”

“All right, mum, you’re gonna wake Joshua up from his nap!”

Jay is  _ beyond _ gleeful at the news and it doesn’t take Louis long to get it out of her that she had been waiting for this day for years. 

“Oh c’mon, you two have been soulmates since before you even knew what soulmates were, Lou!” 

“I-”

“Mum’s always know, Loubear!” She interrupts, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, I’m so happy for you boys, I thought you seemed much happier in these last few weeks.”

“I’m a bit worried about Michael,” Louis confesses. “What do I tell him?”

“He’s going to have something to say about it, no doubt,” Jay agrees. “But, you’re not his possession, Lou, and he is no authority over you.”

“What about Joshua?”

“Michael will always be his blood, but he’s barely more than that, Lou. I’ve been there with your dad; when you want them to care you can’t make them but the moment you’re back on your own two feet and things are going well they try and fuck things up for you.”

Louis laughs wide eyed; his mum never swears. 

“My best advice would be to speak to Harry, speak to me if you need me, and then when you’re both confident in your relationship, then you tell Michael.”

“All right,” Louis nods, but that sounds catastrophic. 

“And you  _ tell _ him, you don’t  _ ask _ him. You owe Michael nothing, Lou. Joshua is well cared for and loved - ninety five percent of the time solely by you - and Michael wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, trust me sweetheart.”

“I hope so,” Louis sighs wistfully.

  
  
  


Louis’ days are long and boring without a job to go to and only a two year old for company. His last ounce of inclination slips away as he sits on the sofa watching Joshua charge about the living room with bowls and spoons from the kitchen. 

Still, in September he’ll start nursery and then Louis will have to go back to work, and he’ll probably long for these quiet days at home. 

“Daddy, I hungry ‘gen.” Joshua announces, holding out the mixing bowl expectantly. “Make me dinner?”

Louis sighs loudly, looking up at the clock. It’s only half past eleven. 

*

Once Joshua is fed and down for his nap, Louis perks up a bit. An hour to himself is a million times different to an hour on his own watching Joshua. 

He’s not sure what makes him do it, but something inexplicable makes him decide to get his phone from the shelf in the kitchen and check it for messages. 

**Michael:** _ I’m coming over to see Joshua today. _

Shit. 

That was already a couple of hours ago. Ice cold dread settles in throughout Louis’ veins and in his gut. He tries to shake it off and relax but every moment he spends waiting for Michael he gets more and more tense until by the time the doorbell rings Louis nearly jumps out of his skin. 

It still feels strange, even after all this time, letting Michael into the home they used to share. Where Michael used to come and go without consequence. 

“Hi,” Louis tries to be polite, and gets little more than a grunt in response. Rolling his eyes heavenwards, Louis closes the front door and follows Michael in. 

“Where’s Joshua?” Michael demands. 

“Still napping, obviously.” Louis snaps. 

“Oh?” Michael turns around; he’s smiling but not because he’s happy. “Not with Harry then?”

For the second time today, Louis’ blood runs cold. He’s got two options here; deny and delay the inevitable further, or ask Michael how much he knows and face the music.

“Wh-What?”

Michael laughs cruelly. “Not denying it then? Didn’t I tell you back then, it wouldn’t take Harry long to latch onto you and my son?!”

“He’s not latched onto anything, Michael, he’s my best friend and… and-”

“And what?”

“You’ve got a nerve to say that about Harry when if you really cared about your son you’d spend more time with him!”

“I’m busy with work, Louis, you know that.”

“So busy that you've not had a day off in over two years? Christ, you must be really important!”

“Don’t be a twat,” Michael spots, and it’s like a slap in the face. 

“Me?” Louis gasps, mindful of waking Joshua up to the sounds of them fighting. “It’s the truth! Joshua barely knows you, Michael, but you could change that! I want him to know you, to have a relationship with you!”

“Are you two together then?” 

Michael’s question confuses Louis for a moment until he realises, once again, he’s back to talking about Harry. 

“That’s not even relevant, we’re talking about you here!”

“That’s a yes then,” Michael chuckles. “He got what he always wanted then?”

Louis’ first instinct is to go defensive, but then something snaps inside him and it all comes out. 

“No, you know what all right? Maybe he does want me, and maybe now he’s got me? And that’s okay! You didn’t want me, you don’t want this life. But Harry does. And he’s my best friend, I know him better than I know anyone! I’m not gonna apologise for that. I spent too long trying to make you happy when it clearly was never gonna happen!”

“Daddy?” A small voice cuts through the clash and Louis and Michael both leap apart from each other to find Joshua in the doorway frowning up at them both. 

“Joshy!” Michael exclaims, making for Joshua with his arms wide and demeanour completely (falsely) changed. “Hello mate, come and see your pop! Ooh, I’ve missed you!”

Louis fights to contain the tears he hadn’t realised were welling up in his eyes as he watches Joshua cautiously allow Michael to scoop him up. 

“Pop?” Joshua asks. 

“Yes, lad?”

“Wha’ you and daddy fighting for?”

Louis leaps up. “It’s all right, Joshy, we weren’t fighting. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry if it woke you up, lad,” Michael says to Joshua. “Do you want to come to nanny Wendy’s house with me on Saturday, hey? See grandad Steve too?”

Louis watches closely, livid that Michael hadn’t even run it past him first before telling Joshua. The little boy nods carefully, his pouting little pet lip giving away his unease with the situation. 

Joshua eventually calms down once he’s used to Michael again, and Louis has to bite his tongue several times as he stands out of the way in the kitchen area watching Michael’s attempt at quality time with their son. 

“Does daddy never take you down t’park for some footie?” Michael asks Joshua when he repeats for about the third time that dinosaurs are his favourite toy. 

“Yeah, but, dine-dine.” Joshua reasons, unable to see what his dadda is finding so difficult to understand. 

“Okay, well this one’s cool,” Michael tries. “What’s this one called?”

“Lucy,” Joshua says proudly. Louis smiles to himself.

“Lucy?!” Michael splutters. “Oh, I thought it was a boy dinosaur.”

“No,” Joshua shakes his head. “S’girl. Called Lucy, pop.”

Louis looks away, trying to find something to busy himself with in the kitchen. He can hear the two of them, mainly just Joshua, chattering away as they play and he tries to enjoy it for what it is. 

But as the dark cloud hanging over his head stretches on towards the weekend now, it’s hard to feel positive at all. He just feels sick. 

*

“I mean, it’s a good thing right?” 

Harry glances back at Louis, his little smile trying its hardest to be believable and encouraging. 

“I’m sorry he was a twat to you, but I’m glad that it’s out there. No more creeping around.”

Louis nods. “I know, I’m glad too.”

“Tell you what?” Harry suggests. “Saturday while he and Joshua are out together we could do something together? Maybe?”

A smile spreads across Louis’ face. “What? Like a date?”

Harry is the colour of a strawberry in seconds flat. “Oh my God, you’re- yes, like a date! Okay? Yes or no?”

“Is that anyway to ask me?” Louis cackles, enjoying seeing Harry squirm. “Yes or no, I feel like I’m taking a quiz!”

“Fine!” Harry huffs, a glint in his eye. “Louis, would you like to go on a date with me on Saturday afternoon?”

“Hmmm,” Louis presses his finger to the dimple in his chin. “I don’t know, I might already have plans that day!”

“Oh my God, you’re flipping impossible!” Harry shrieks, tackling Louis down onto the sofa. Louis screams for Harry unhand him, laughing so hard he gets a pain in his side. 

“Kiss me.” Harry says simply, and then all the air falls from their sails and Harry above him melts into his body, their bodies probably as close as is possible.

Kissing Harry still hasn’t got old, probably never will, Louis reckons. He loses track of everything apart from the feeling of Harry on him; hands on his back pulling at his t-shirt and grabbing at Harry’s bum desperately. 

“Love this so much,” Harry murmurs into their kiss, and as he pulses his hips forward Louis can feel how he’s Harry’s is against his leg. 

Louis knows from certain previous giggly meltdowns that he can’t afford to overthink this too much. He tries to focus on the kiss, and not the way Harry writhes on top of him, and not to mention the hard on in his  _ own _ trousers that isn’t helping his case much. 

“Bedroom?” Harry asks, barely even breaking the kiss this time. Of course, Louis agrees. 

He’s seen Harry naked so many times before he can’t even count, but now, this is different. He’s just got his shirt off, joggers slightly pulled down, but Louis can see the strain of his dick  _ right there _ and suddenly his mouth is very dry. 

“You okay?” Harry asks, his eyes dark but focused. 

“Y-Yeah,” Louis chokes out.

Harry props his weight up on one elbow and tilts Louis chin up with his other hand. He presses one soft kiss to Louis’ lips and then runs his hand down the middle of Louis’ chest. Harry shuffles down the bed, his hand stopping as it gets to the hem of his t-shirt. He teases his hand close to but not touching what is going on in Louis’ trousers and then quickly dips his fingers underneath the material of his t-shirt. 

“Skin’s so warm,” he murmurs. Louis shivers with the goosebumps that Harry elicits. Harry dots a trail of kisses up Louis’ yummy, as if he’s worshipping exactly the parts Louis hates most.

Harry is somehow soft and pillowy and sexy and sharp at the same time but Louis feels self-conscious of the way his own body has changed since having Joshua; the stretch marks left behind and the Caesarean section scar that slices across the happy trail from his bellybutton.

“You’re amazing, Lou,” Harry breathes heavily, running his hand over the quivering plane of Louis’ tummy. Louis wonders what Harry really thinks about the ridges and ripples in his skin. 

“Can’t believe I get to do this,” Harry drops his head and presses a kiss where his hand was. “Can I?” Harry is asking, looking up at Louis earnestly with eyes wide and round. “Lou? Let me make you feel good, please?”

Louis has never experienced anything like this sort of care and affection. Being intimate with Michael was more mechanical than romantic most of the time, but with Harry he’s made to feel like he’s actually important. 

“Oh God,” Louis shudders, closing his eyes and nodding hard. He comes apart with Harry’s mouth on him; this feeling is so alien to him that it’s pretty much over before he’s had a chance to catch his breath. Harry tucks him back into his pants afterwards, wriggles up the bed and settles on Louis’ chest, his hand resting carefully over skin that visibly trembles with how fast Louis’ heart beats.

  
  
  


It’s a slow and gradual transition, bringing Harry into Joshua’s life as more than just daddy’s best friend. It’s difficult to really communicate it to Joshua at his age, so they find other ways. 

Joshua is quickly used to how often Harry is around their flat; that doesn’t seem to faze him at all. Weeks and months pass by and Louis can’t really pinpoint one specific moment where it all clicked into place, but he knows in that moment that the love between him and Harry, the love that’s always been there, has evolved into a new kind of love now. 

And so that’s what they tell Joshua. 

“You loves him?” Joshua asks, eyes wide like saucers. Louis glances at Harry quickly with a small smile then looks back to his son and nods carefully. “And love Joshy?”

“Yes darling, I love you more than anything in the world entire world.”

“Okay!” Joshua grins; it’s enough for his innocent young mind. All he really wants, is someone to play dinosaurs invading villages with.

  
  
  



End file.
